The Broken Anklet

I've worn it for about 14 months or so on my left ankle. It was yellow and blue and made of a string that was lighter on one end and darker on the other. I remember sitting in my bunk and choosing the strings and deciding which pattern I would follow to make the end product. It likely took me about an hour or a bit longer all said and done. I finished it off with a special slip knot so if I had to it could quickly be taken off my ankle. These are not allowed at Carswell, although I made them frequently for others and so did many other people. Bracelets often were confiscated, anklets were safer, because when in uniform and outside our units, they were under our socks. Once I put mine on, I never took it off. Not once. It may have been made of string, but it was something I made and it was a symbol of my individuality. When I walked around my unit in shorts and fake crocs the officers could see it, but others had them too, they were of little concern as long as we were staying out of trouble.

Once I was home, I looked at my anklet all the time. It was starting to fray. Things like this do not usually last beyond a summer at camp (the place I learned to make them). It was stretching out. I kept trying to make it tighter. I made the decision that I would not take it off until Lola was home. When I made the anklet for me, I also made anklets for Freckles and Lola. Freckles is home. Lola still needs to come home. I don't know if she still has hers.

I write of this because it broke off tonight and I'm very upset. I know that Lola has at least a half year yet before she could possibly be going to her HWH. I know the anklet was just a symbol, but I looked at it every day and said a prayer for Lola. I will still do so, but I wanted that connection. I may try to tie it back on tomorrow if I can. It's no longer pretty, but I do not care about that.

I left Carswell 9 months ago. Wow that's as long as I was there. I have not seen Lola in almost a year based on when they moved her. It may have been a long time ago, but I don't want her to ever think that just because I am out and she's still there, I am not thinking of her or that I do not value the friendship she gave me. I may not be able to be a great friend to her due to BOP guidelines, but I will find ways symbolically to stay connected.

The Monthly Report

Like clockwork as it is set to do, I hear the ring - beep, beep, beep... I look to my phone. It is my monthly reminder that my supervision report is due. I also have to pay my 10% restitution based on my gross income for last month. Snoozing the alarm is not an option. There is a deadline and I do not intend to miss it.

The first thing I do once I make sure I am on my computer and ready, is bring up the document I have that gives me all my logins and passwords. Everything is on government websites and none of the logins are easy to remember or changeable. I put everything in a safe and secure place that I know to look to when it's time to do my report and payment.

I usually do my payment first, because I will need to provide the amount in the report, although as long as I know the amount, the order does not matter. Some jurisdictions allow for online payments and others require mailed in payments or allow for phone in payments. Your PO may not actually know. Usually the website for the clerk of the court you were sentenced in has the answer or you can call and ask. My PO lets me pay after the month is complete, that's a conversation to have with your PO about when they expect payments to be paid.

Once I know I've made my payment, I log onto the website for monthly reports. Every federal person on supervision is using the same website so make sure you have a decent internet connection. It is not the most advanced technology.

The questions are pretty basic and most answers are kept from month to month, so I only have to edit changes - even my financials stay in there. I always have to edit the end balances of my bank accounts. I suppose that's a way to ensure we are paying attention. I mean most people wouldn't have the exact same balance in their checking month after month. I had to put in that I had to pay a parking ticket that T.S. got when she parked my car one day. I entered the amount I paid in my restitution. Most months that is the same - 10% of my graduate assistant stipend.

I always review the full report before hitting submit, nervous that I missed something or wrote something incorrectly. I just don't want to do anything that could misrepresent the truth. I haven't had any trouble with my reports so far, but like so many other rituals within the DOJ, I have no idea if and how they are used.

In a month I will likely be packing up my house, just days away from moving to our new digs when I will hear those beeps reminding me that it is once again time to do my report. I will sit down next to my computer, pay my 10% and fill out my report. This time I will need to ensure my PO knows that my address is about to change. Other than that, most answers will continue to be the same. Most likely, of course. The monthly report. The reminder that I am still not free.

Midterms

I've decided that midterms are some sort of hazing ritual that should be made unlawful, just like hazing at fraternities/ sororities. Having every course have exams and papers due at the same time is just mean. People should not be forced to cram study/ write for learning. That is not the best way to learn anything! Plus, since new material was still being taught just last week, there is no way to fully be prepared in advance. 

For me, I have just two courses to worry about, but both midterms are a substantial percentage of my final grades. Other than organizing my notes and knowing my readings for my org theory course, there was no way to prepare for that midterm. Last night the professor posted five questions. My midterm is to choose three and write responses to them - 1700 words per response. It is due Friday. Sounds doable, if my statistics midterm was not smack dab right in the middle of this week...

I've taken statistics before. I've done well in statistics before. Statistics scares me every time I take it! I fully understand about 50% of the content and try my best with the other 50%. There are a lot of stats tests to know, interpret, calculate, differentiate, etc. this stats class bypassed my last stats class by the third week! It goes fast!!! So, for the last week I've studied stats: t-tests, chi-square, hypothesis testing, type I and type II errors, independent and dependent variables, z-scores, normal curves, kurtosis, skewness, binomials, factorials, and more. I can't even imagine what studying for the final will be like!

I love graduate school, but I don't think that rituals such as midterms are necessary for graduate students. Projects that have us synthesize our knowledge and utilize what we are learning are far more valuable. Yes, I will be doing that too. Today I will spend half my day studying, perhaps outlining one of the questions for the org theory midterm as well, and then I will go to work for my afternoon. Tonight, I will come home and have dinner, and then I will once again go back to studying until I can no longer stare at a computer screen.

At least once this week's ritual is complete, the grand ritual of Spring Break will occur and I will have myself a one week break from all of this... Except for my thesis. I have to start my official proposal!

Scaling Down

It's hard to imagine my life prior to incarceration. I lived in a two bedroom, two full bathroom apartment to myself. Every storage space was full of my stuff and I hoarded even more in corners, on desks and shelves, and in cabinets. I had stuff. I've always complicated my life carrying around boxes of things for that rainy day I may want to have them.

I cleared out many of those things with Traveler's help before my incarceration. Many were boxed up and put in storage and then brought to where I now live with Sporty. When I moved back in here, I moved into the second bedroom all set up for me. Only a few of my most important boxes were unpacked, everything else remained boxed in the basement. Eight months later, not a single additional box has been unpacked.

There are several reasons for this. First of all, there's just no room for all my things. Unless I wanted to redo the home, I would become a true hoarder trying to fit everything somewhere. Second, I knew we would be moving at some point, so I'd go through it then. Finally, other than a couple things I really missed, I honestly had no idea what I was missing!

So sad, a life of collecting things and unless they are in front of me, I forget they even exist. Honestly, I learned to appreciate having far less "things" while incarcerated. The most important items in those boxes are photos, a couple items from my travels abroad, and journals. There's also some artwork I appreciate.

So, for the next several weeks Sporty and I have a deal. As long as we are in town (I will be out of town for spring break), we will empty at least one box per day. Many items are going to Goodwill, others are being resorted into boxes for our moves, and many trash bags are being filled. Every box is going through a full inspection and being emptied. So far we have gone through seven boxes and have not even fully packed three new ones. That is progress.

Books may always be the item I have the hardest time getting rid of. I just have an affinity for the written word, especially books I loved reading. They are such a hassle to haul around, but every one is a treasure. I'm trying to practice giving one away for every one I keep. I suppose that is progress as well.

I hope we can continue to make progress at these steps toward pairing down a bit. It can be hard at times. The end result is a much simpler life. I certainly can handle that for a while.

A Letter from the Inside

I received a letter from someone who is still at Carswell this week. It was not someone I was particularly close to, but she took a liking to me immediately when we met. We met through the Jewish activities, although she was far more religiously Jewish than I was - she had spent part of her life living in Israel.

We never lived on the same unit and we did not have the same friends. We were very different ages as well. I was one of very few people who did not know of her crime prior to meeting her and simply talked to her as a person - perhaps that was the difference. 

Had it not been that we both had medical issues we would never have been in the same prison. She was there with a life sentence for being the mastermind behind a famous murder. Her story has been written in books, included on episodes of shows such as "Snapped" and has far greater news headlines than my own. I only knew her as an older lady in a wheelchair - with a pretty brusk attitude - fighting for her rights and her healthcare like the rest of us. She was the unofficial leader of the Jewish community on the compound.

She knows me as "the woman who saved Passover." Last year was a nightmare and everything pretty much fell apart with Passover. Red and I worked together to make sure that we could have a good Seder and everyone was super happy. It really went well. I guess they were talking about it last week and so she wrote me because they are starting to plan this year's Passover - Red and I are no longer there.

I hope we left them all enough of the ideas to make this year's Passover as good if not better. The community may be small, but they deserve to enjoy their holidays just like the other communities do.

How do I feel about the fact that I received a letter from someone who happens to have such a background? It's fine with me. Truth is, we have no idea of the backgrounds of people we talk to or sit next to every single day. I personally do not feel that I have the right to judge someone else. She is already locked up for life. Being kind to her certainly does not justify her past actions but it says that she may be more than just her past. Aren't we all?

Freckles' HWH & Employment

Your HH should be there to help you with your transition. They should be supportive and try to make your job hunting as easy as possible - but from my experience, they truly do the opposite. The first problem is that along with being a job counselor, they are also expected to play police. I understand the accountability issue of knowing where you are, but there are certain things that seem a bit overboard. And one would think they would embrace felon friendly companies, but again, not true.

I'll start off with the "police" function of their job. Things changed dramatically since I first got there - the original employment coordinator was a bit more understanding, however, the new one is 99% police and 1% employment coordinator. Before you could go to a prospective employer to fill out an application by putting in a pass and while you were there you would need to obtain some "proof" that you were there. Easy enough, and not a huge red flag to the employer that you are a felon and living in the half way house. Now the employment coordinator calls the place where you are putting in your application and verifies that you are going there and what time - so basically you need to make an appointment. And then she follows up to make sure you were there when you said you were (even after bringing proof back). I know it's all about full disclosure of you being a felon - but it's also all about the timing of this disclosure. I don't think that the employer being notified before they even meet me helps my chances of getting the job at all and then having someone follow up to make sure that I was there - right there I'd be second guessing their integrity and reliability if someone has to call twice. I believe one should be able to sell themselves, including the positives obtained from their incarceration and be allowed to explain the situation and let the employer decide after meeting you and either wanting to hire you or not. People are close minded - and I would probably say that even I would be a bit "turned off" by a potential employee that was coming in living at a half way house as a felon with the hassles of the phone calls. My employer gets two phone calls a week. One to verify my work schedule for the following week and then another to verify the hours I worked the previous week - never done in the same phone call mind you. It's never easy for my employer to get them this information and not everyone will take a message or forward the information. I would think an email from the boss for your schedule the following week would be sufficient and that your paystub from the previous week would be documentation, nope. They can also do place of employment checks where the pop in and see if you are there. To me this could be done easily enough and they could "fly under the radar". Nope, they make a big scene, are extremely rude and there have been instances where the employer had to call the HH to request certain people do not come back for the checks. Not sure about you and I understand that I put myself in this situation, but it's not anyone's business at my job that I am a felon under half way house "control".

Now one would think once a felon friendly company is found, they would continue to allow residents to apply there. Not the case. This instance involves a large retailer that I worked for over the holidays, so I know they are felon friendly. The HH is claiming that they are "difficult to work with" and did not allow a fellow resident to go and apply at a store in their area. Well, since I was an employee there, I can attest to what they are talking about and it's not the employer being difficult, but the HH. I had my HR manager come up to me one day and ask why the HH was asking questions that were not allowed to ask by the human resource laws that govern our state. They were very rude and out of line stating that "people told them before" and they needed this information. I don't believe it's any of their business on how I'm performing, if I get along with other workers etc - it's their job to make sure I am at work when I say I'm at work and that is it. So once I heard "Frosty" was not allowed to go and apply we asked "why". Our TDAT counselor was able to enlighten us that the employer was brought up in their weekly meeting and they decided that they were no longer going to let residents work their because the employer is "difficult to work with". Of course the story of why was not told and it was left very vague and incomplete. So now it's the "police" violating the HR laws of the state, and when they get an employer who challenges that, they disallow residents to work there. Not fair at all.

There are folders of job leads in the coordinators office that never get put out to residents. Another TDAT resident has been helping her organize and get these out to residents while she awaits the BOP authorizing her to work for a family member. Again, jobs that are felon friendly not being shared with residents. I agree that they may be understaffed - but again, separate the police and the employment coordinator position and you may have your answer. 

I know the BOP is not known for it's finesse and handling of situations - but as we get ready to re-enter society, I think there are things that could be handled a lot differently. So please don't get frustrated when you have some of these things happen to you - yes it's hard enough to obtain employment, but be prepared for other obstacles to pop up in your way and it's how you handle them that will help you in your future endeavors!

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Once again Freckles' adventures help us learn so much about life at the halfway house. It is so true from my experience that everyone you meet that works in the system is "police" first and doing their job second. Such a reality makes administration of their duties so backward and often misguided. Remember that every HWH is different so while we have this experience from Freckles and a completely different type of experience from me, there is no way of knowing how yours may be. If you have ever lived in one, we would love to know whether your HWH also called your employer 2x/ week to check up on you or is this unique to Freckles' HWH?

15 Locations

Since I posted that little survey asking for where you all read this blog from, I've had 20 of you reply - THANK YOU! Many more of you have read that posting, but it is perfectly okay that you have chosen not to participate in the survey. I was just curious to see where folks were reading this from and I thought I would share with you that of the 20 responses, there were 15 different places (states/ countries). The difference would be greater if I include the city location, but I don't want to violate anyone's specific anonymity.

Here is the listing so far:
Alabama
Auckland, New Zealand
Florida
Georgia
Illinois
Indiana
Manchester, UK
Michigan
New Hampshire
Pennsylvania
Sandwich, UK
Texas
Virginia
Washington
West Virginia

That's pretty darn cool! Thank you all for being participants in this blog!! I may not have the largest readership, but knowing that the readership is broad based certainly means a lot! I am really looking forward to making all these writings into something academic over the next several months, but I plan to continue writing - I know my journey is not yet over and as long as I can continue to help those who may be facing the realities of life in prison and after, I plan to continue to write.

I believe Freckles has a new post for me to ensure gets uploaded soon, so be on the lookout for that. If you have not yet participated in the survey, it will continue to be available for you to participate in. Let's continue to grow the list!

A Warmer Climate

I think for the time being I need to write about something a little more positive. I've thought for sometime about moving to a warmer climate after graduation. It will be better for my health and with the winters the way they've been lately, I am pretty sure there's nothing that is going to keep me in the midwest. Chances are, I'll be making my way down to the Southeast, although if T.S. has her way, the entire family will be moving far Southwest - like coastal west - but we will see. There are careers and years that will go in to making these decisions. With the knowledge that my mother is going to be moving away from my childhood hometown within a short period of time to another state and my father lives in another state already, moving out of the midwest once again is not all that hard for me.

I like the idea of new beginnings. Although it wouldn't be entirely new - I'd be bringing people along with me. I'd have my education, my past, my friends, and most of my things. It's not like starting entirely over. However, it is a chance for a freshness of sorts - a new way of life. In a warmer climate, I can plan for outdoor walks nearly every day of the year (when it is not raining). My vitamin D deficiency that I take mega pills for may be no longer. I could potentially grow some of my own vegetables year round. I would have new GA meetings to check out. New beginnings can be fun. Plus a warmer climate means that my friends from the midwest may see my new surroundings as a fun vacation spot!!! Hahaha.

Ah, I dream. I cannot live in a dream world. Right now, I live in a place with many inches of snow and ice on the ground and it is freezing outside! However, one day, I believe I will not live here any longer. I do not know when that is, but it will be one day. Until then, I need to wear four layers of clothing to step outside and just be grateful I have heat in my home and warm boots and gloves. I'm glad I am no longer gambling and can pay my heating and other utility bills on time. But when I close my eyes, I know that I will live somewhere different one day and it brings a smile to my face because soon, the sun will shine on me most days of the year and for that, I am happy.

The Fabulous Meeting

Ah, and then there's hope. My favorite word, once again. Hope, hope, hope, hope, hope. I have it again and I'm smiling. I couldn't wait to get online and write. I spent the entire weekend lost in my head - although watching the Academy Awards was fun at times, my brain never went totally clear - except when Neil Patrick Hauser was in his underwear - what was that??? Now, I'm once again myself. I have HOPE!!! HOPE!!!

I was at work this morning and I received an email from a professor who wanted to meet with me about my thesis. It was a meeting we've been trying to schedule and they happened to have an opening, so I made my way over to their office before my class started this afternoon. They are a professor in CJ, but also have a history as an administrator and we have both worked on a committee on teaching/learning in the past. We'd already set up a summer independent study and I knew that I looked forward to learning from/with them in the future.

We spent a good 20 minutes talking through my thesis around doing an autoethnographic study around the blog entries I wrote between August 19th and May 28th of this here blog. There are some very unique things around doing an autoethnographic study and we talked through some of those issues. It was a good conversation and I was able to answer questions well and they are comfortable with me moving forward with my thesis proposal.

So good to know and remember that there are people that know my hard work and have my back. People who judge me for who I am and require more than circumstantial evidence to pass judgement. People who will go the extra mile. I was told to keep my professor informed of each step as this goes forward and I certainly will. I did not start this day even knowing I would see this professor, but I know that they were put into my day so that I would be able to have hope back into my life. I'm still having this opportunity to think about my life, choices, and opportunities. I just am glad to know that all the fears of what I had are not going to occur. I do not know the future. Right now, though, I still have a lot to be grateful for.

My professor wants to start my independent study early. That will fill up my time after midterms and spring break and give me a little less time on it this summer when I am officially taking 12 credits in order to graduate on time. Plus - I'll have my thesis. Summers usually consist of 3-6 credits due to shorter semesters, so I'll have a lot on my plate. I know I can do it.

Freckles - the HWH and Medical Care

In coming from a medical facility - I really didn't have "high hopes" of prompt or proper medical care while at my half way house. However, there are certain things that we are entitled to since we are still in BOP custody. But once again, the way the half way house administrators handle this stays true to the philosophy of the BOP meaning "backwards on purpose".

Before I left Carswell they administered a TB test so I had my negative results and they renewed all my prescriptions so I had 6 months of refills. The first mistake I made was thinking that the BOP and the HH "talk". There is no direct line of communication and nothing transfers from the BOP to the HH. In BOP's eyes, when you are leaving they believe they are setting things up to make it easier on you, when in reality the HH has no clue. So upon getting there off I go to the clinic to get a TB test (even though I had documentation stating "negative" results from less than a week earlier) and a "basic" physical. When I say basic, it's truly that, all clothes on and just a quick 5 minutes with a doctor, an eye test and height and weight. Well ok, now how do I get my prescriptions filled? Each HH has a budget for medical and dental, since they are to provide you care while you are in their custody. My HH instead uses the FREE Salvation Army clinic. So off I went to a free clinic which in my eyes I really had no business being at. There are other people that need these appointment slots, shouldn't the HH contract with a doctor's office and pay with their funding vs trying to pawn us off on the free clinics? The doctor I met with was very nice, and after getting my prescriptions filled she asked me why I was using their clinic when I had health insurance (apparently they can see that in the computer). I explained to her that the HH told me I had to use their doctor - not true, after one time to their clinic off to my primary care physician I went.

Now on to the dentist - after 2 months of being there I had a filling fall out. It was substantial in size so half of my tooth was literally gone and all was exposed. Once again, they set up an appointment with me at a free/sliding scale clinic down in the bario. Off I went. The dentist was very nice and they did X-rays and worked up a detailed treatment plan on what work needed to be done - including a cleaning since I did not have one now in over a year of being in BOP custody. Odd thing, upon leaving, the receptionist noted that she would be sending over everything to my HH but also "warned" me that NOTHING ever gets approved from them so plan on not getting the work I needed done and to probably be prepared to make other arrangements. Interesting. So me being me, I went on the BOP website and pulled all their "guidelines" on providing dental care, I was going to be armed and informed knowing that I 'would be declined'. And within a few days what do you know - my work was declined. I contacted our regional office and filed some "grievance" paperwork on this matter. Well, apparently our HH was not submitting paperwork correctly and region was upset so region was now coming to our HH to train the caseworkers. Whew, I finally thought I was making headway. Fast forward 3 months later, still no resolution. My casework resubmitted my paperwork for approval. The clinic they have us use does not have the capabilities to send "electronic" x-rays which the BOP requires. Now why would the HH use a dentist that can't even provide the BOP what they need to approve the work - you got it, if it doesn't get approved, the monies don't get spent and they can use them elsewhere. After further run around, I spoke to the clinic and they were not sending anything to my HH due to the fact that they had not yet paid for my initial exam which was over 3 months ago. So now my caseworker informs me they are trying to find a "free" clinic for us to use - my response, was to just shake my head and ask "why"? Knowing I tried, I made an appointment with my dentist. My filling is now fixed and I'm going to get my cleaning today.

There are certain things that as "prisoners" still in BOP custody we are entitled to. But beware, the HH does not make it easy. However, on a good note - the BOP has just informed our HH that while in custody and at the HH the inmates are eligible for "ObamaCare" and the low income medicaid if offered in your state. Because when I arrived they had you sign documentation stating that it was "fraud" to obtain these benefits due to what they called "double dipping". Odd that the state and the feds can not even agree on something as simple as subsidized medical. My advice, as soon as you land at the HH (or prior if you have someone you trust to start the process), get your health insurance in place and avoid the madness and hoop jumping I went through.

At the end of the day I was not fighting for just me - I knew that I would get my teeth taken care of one way or another - but I was trying to hopefully make enough waves that these horrific situations wouldn't happen to future HH resident. Again, a fail - for now. I am documenting all of this and hopefully will get some resolve when I send to our region (after my release of course). In our HH, it is not worth causing any type of friction, they can easily make your re-entry more challenging, which unfortunately they choose to do to individuals on a daily basis. 

-Freckles

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As you all know from my experience, I was able to get on Medicaid/Obamacare as soon as I got home on home confinement from the HWH. My HWH would not allow me to fill out the online application while there. Freckles' experience in another state is very interesting and she happened to have her own private insurance. While in BOP custody, the BOP is responsible for your medical coverage, however they can refuse to cover your treatments, as Freckles experienced- as we also experienced even when locked up.

A Chance to Say "Thank You"

I've been asked to speak at a regional gambler's anonymous conference as a closing speaker. Being the closing speaker is great... less people stick around for the final day, so there is way less pressure. It's also in the region I originally started my GA recovery in - these folks are my family, my people. When I was incarcerated, I received cards and letters nearly every single day from people in those rooms wishing me well and giving me words of strength. Sometimes, entire GA meetings would sign cards and send them in to me to tell me that they were thinking of me. Although I no longer lived within their region having moved to another for school, they still loved and cared about me, especially as I was serving my time at Carswell. This is what the GA program and our recovery programs are all about.

I look forward to my opportunity to share words of hope, wisdom and strength with people in the room. As the closing speaker, I will try to bring the weekend to a close with words of inspiration and thoughts that may help those that are still struggling with gambling. This is my opportunity to do more, though, as I get to practice my program as well. This is my opportunity to thank everyone, whether they are present or not, for all their prayers, letters, cards, and books that made my time away feel as if they were with me all along. I never spent even one hour of my time at Carswell feeling lonely or unloved. My program helped me believe strongly in my higher power, but I also knew that I had all these people back home who cared deeply about me and my wellbeing, even if they'd never even met me. I received cards from perfect strangers who had only heard my story. That's the power of this program. I've only recently been asked to speak and I will not be doing so for a couple months, so the speech is not yet written, but a good part of it will be about the fellowship of GA, the power of that fellowship, and my gratitude toward each and every person in it.

How amazing it is that I am given this grand opportunity to say such a formal thanks. I have to admit that I am nervous. I love public speaking, but I do get nervous. Sounds weird but it's true. I can teach to a classroom of 200+ students with no problem, but I am not talking about myself, my story. I suppose that half the people or more will have already heard much of my story at the closing - more than 100 people attended my 5 year GA pinning prior to my incarceration. The real story starts there, though, doesn't it?!?!

Perhaps one day I will be somewhere and my thanks will be able to go to each one of you, who choose to read this blog. Maybe I'll be speaking somewhere and you will be in the audience. Wouldn't that be something? We never know what the future may hold - one day at a time is all we do know. I hope you all know how much I appreciate you for being a part of my life. If no one read this blog, I would likely still write in it, but it's so much better knowing that people get something out of reading it. So, thank you! Thank you! Thank you!

Timehopping and Forgiving My Former Program

I was looking at an application on my phone that has me look back at this day in time and "repost" things to facebook if I think they are funny or interesting, etc. It's called "timehop" and is a fun phone application to see how far I've come. At most, it looks back about 5/6 years, as that is how long I've been a facebook use. Crazy to think how much our lives become used to using something - kinda like I can't believe I've only been writing in this blog for 1 1/2 years...

Anyway, I was reading this day in history and four years ago, I visited my University for the first time. I was visiting my old program. They had a weekend planned for new admits to 'sell' us on the program and the University - and I was sold immediately. It was the "community" I noticed first. I was paired up with a 'buddy' who answered all my questions. The community went out at night for dinner and shmoozing. The faculty were really approachable. Of course, the opportunities offered were one of a kind as well. I kept comparing every other place to here. I knew where I wanted to be.

My next time hope post, a year later, I posted, "It was this weekend last year that [my University] and [my program] just blew me away... Let's do that for the visiting admits this year!..." and that night, as the person now volunteering to do all the evening get-togethers, I posted a reminder for the current students to come out and meet the new folks for a schmooze fest at a local restaurant/bar. It was one year later, I was part of that community that I hailed so much as why I wanted to attend this school.

Most people avoid the conversation with me about my former program and my admission being revoked while I was incarcerated. I mean I am back in - ce la vie. Many of the people I started my journey with are actually graduating this year with their PhD! They will all be gone from our community before this summer. I rarely bump into anyone I know from there, even though we are on the same campus. It's a large University. It's not a conversation I want to avoid, though, and here's why...

I was a part of that community, and to me, I was a valuable part. Everyone who is part of a community is valuable. Where I think my former community failed me is that they never let me have a voice. I was never given an opportunity to speak and tell my story. Decisions were made based on rumors and a lot of one-sided media. I think that is very unfair. As someone who was a part of their community, who volunteered for all their events, who represented them without fail and did an acceptable job at research conferences, who earned acceptable grades in their coursework, and who offered to be honest (but was told by faculty to remain quiet for now), I deserved a chance to be heard. That is where I still felt hurt.

However, I work a program of recovery. In that recovery, I need to practice forgiveness. I also believe that things do happen for a reason. Had I not been kicked out of the program I was in, I would not have found my new program. I never thought I would be passionate about criminal justice, but I am and I am excited to be connecting my education knowledge with criminal justice. Education gave me the tools and preparedness to take on the challenges I have being in a very rigorous program now. I know that over the next 4 1/2 years or so, I will see many more faces of my past program and I look forward to doing so, because I miss many of them. They were mentors and teachers that I admired and continue to do so. I forgive because I have no knowledge of what really occurred behind closed doors. I never will. So, I am practicing forgiveness right now. I am where I need to be. Today, I forgive all the faculty of my old program and also wish well all the students who are moving on to their new lives in the near future. They are truly an amazing community of scholars.

As for the University, I know that they did not follow protocol in dismissing me, but they've done right by me ever since and I'm proud to attend such a great research University. I've said since the day my admission was revoked that I will walk across that graduation stage, and I will. No one around me will know the exact journey that had led to that day - and I'm sure there are other graduates that will have overcome some hefty trials as well. As always, I am not unique or special. I just have a lot of hope and I will persevere!

Where are they now?

I decided to do some research on my friends left in Texas. I knew some of them may have been transferred away, or were hoping to, so, I went on the federal inmate finder to see where everyone may be at the moment. I was pretty pleasantly surprised to find that many of my friends were no longer behind the fences at FMC Carswell!! Here's what I learned:

Cali has been transferred much closer to home and is at the Dublin camp. I'm sure she gets to spend time with her husband and family.

Appeal is still at FMC Carswell.

My bunkie must either be at a HWH or on home confinement in her region. Yay!

Taz is still at FMC Carswell for a bit longer. She has some new pen pals she is enjoying.

A former education coworker a good person was finally transferred to the Phoenix camp, where she can be close to her husband who is undergoing chemo. I'm so glad she can see him during her visitation hours!

Chi is still at the Carswell camp but she loves it there. She works in rec and it is much better than the prison side of Carswell.

Freckles is out of the HWH (although I think she may still post some stories about it) and is serving time on home confinement in her region.

Lola is at the Carswell prison camp and also works at rec in an administrative type position. She is able to smile and laugh again.

Nurse was transferred to Victorville. With all her situations of being at the wrong place at the wrong time, I'm so glad she finally was transferred to a camp. I imagine she sees her daughters and granddaughter frequently!

Glitter has about three more months at Carswell. I know she may have to serve some state time after that. I pray she doesn't. I don't know why they don't allow sentences to be run at the same time for nonviolent crimes especially.

Star is home with her three kids and doing well. She took her ACT to go back to college. Her baby born in prison is a very healthy boy.

South is healthy and strong. Unfortunately, she's lost some close family members since coming back home. Loss is never easy.

Red is a newlywed and happy. She was recently promoted at her job and is looking to go back to college.

Mama, as you know, is at Lexington and seeing her family every weekend. Her parents finally have custody of her boys.

There are others, of course, but I do not know any updates. It takes a bit of investigating to do this. I wish I gave everyone names so I could report on more. A lot of changes in just over six months. I wonder if that's mostly true due to us being at a medical center or if it would be true at any prison. Anyone you are curious about?

Where are you all at?

So, I get these statistics that "kind of" tell me where my readers are at, but I'm curious where you are 'really' at. Would you all be willing to do me a favor?

When you opened this page, a survey popped up for you to tell me where you read this blog. When you happen to come across this survey, will you fill out where you happen to be reading it? It would be great to see where the readership happens to be. Don't feel as if you have to include your names - this is an anonymous site for all who choose to let it be so... I'd love to see a bunch of folks add their locations... THANKS!!!!

The Secret Revisited

Tonight, Sporty, our new GA sponsee and myself gathered at our home for dinner and a showing of "The Secret." If you remember, about a year ago, I watched the video while I was incarcerated. The concepts of "The Secret" made an impression on me... it's about the 'law of attraction.' Ask the universe for what you want. Visualize receiving it. Believe you you will get it and believe you deserve to get it. Then be ready and receive it. In our conversation, I used my process of getting back into my school as an example of practicing "the law of attraction."

Since my time in prison, I was not aware that I had possibly been practicing these concepts in my life. I certainly do not in every part of my life, but my consistent persistence I suppose was a good lesson in how the secret works. Amazing that we decided to watch the video again tonight and it all came back to me. Everything comes full circle when it's supposed to.

Today while at school, I noticed that the new Director for my school of criminal justice's door was open. Having never met her, I introduced myself and welcomed her to the school. I proceeded to thank her for the admission to the doctoral program and the funding offer. She told me that they "expect great things" from me. I said that I just was concentrating on completing the Master's program right now and I again thanked her and humbly made myself out of her office.

In the video tonight, it talked about showing gratitude and humility. I was not thinking about the video or anything like that when I decided to knock on the Director's door. I did it because I take nothing for granted these days. When I was in the courtroom being sentenced, I was told by the Judge that I needed to "reconsider" my plans to become a Professor. I was told that I did not belong in academia because of my past actions. People scowled at me in the courtroom because I did not deserve a life of good - only bad.

Then I had an advisor who had my back and told me that I did deserve to stay in school. I started to believe her. That was until I was in prison and got kicked out of my program and the University. Perhaps the Judge and scowlers were right. Maybe my future did not include higher education. Maybe I could not be a Professor.

But, I just kept putting it out to the Universe. I want to be a Professor. I want to stay a student at my same University. I deserve this. My past does not define my future. In fact, my past can only enhance what I am capable of doing in my future. My experiences are unique and informing. There is no way for me to know if I will be able to do "great things" in my future, however, I will certainly be able to offer some interesting insights into the present.

Amazing Opportunities

As we all know at this point, my school did not have to sweeten their offer of acceptance to me much to get me to choose to attend the school. Usually, doctoral programs have a certain amount of funds that they use to help recruit people to their doctoral programs. They offer graduate assistantships, fellowships, scholarships, etc to help entice the student to select their program. At the doctoral level, a student should not pay for their tuition or health insurance or cost of living, it should be covered through a graduate assistantship.

In my last round of applying to doctoral programs, I was accepted to six schools. Four gave me funding outright. Some pretty much enticed me with multi-year guaranteed assistantships and right when I had finally selected my current University, another was offering me a fellowship or something. It didn't matter, I knew where I wanted to be. I wanted to be here - one of the two schools that offered me NO funding upfront. They brought in a large class and half received departmental funding and I didn't make the cut. It was up to me to find my funding. I did and then I accepted the offer to attend because I loved this school and this community. Not having guaranteed funding, though, meant that I would always be concerned about whether my assistantship would be renewed and I had to find summer funding and I wasn't doing work I loved, but it paid like any other graduate assistantship and I was good at my initial assistantship and they kept me on. My first summer I was awarded a research fellowship and the following year I went back to my same graduate assistantship. Things were fine.

A better, more interesting, assistantship opened up and I applied for in and moved into it just months before I was indicted. That's the job that then I worked at before and now after my incarceration. I love it there and they love me. My boss does not judge me for my past, she just wants me to do my job the best I can and in return my tuition, healthcare, and a living stipend is paid to me. This is how graduate students live.

So, today, I was truly humbled when I received from my department my official letter of admission which included with it an offer of funding. As long as I maintain good academic standing, I will have an academic assistantship within the department of criminal justice for the 4-5 years it takes me to complete my PhD (4 years if I plan it right). PLUS they offered me a teaching and research fellowship for each summer. I will not have to find any funding. This is an offer not given to every student. I am beyond humbled that this little felon who is still on supervision was given this opportunity and pat on the back and symbolically told "you belong here." This funding makes all the difference in the world because now I can totally focus starting Fall on my studies and criminal justice research. All my work will be within the department. I will not be forced to work outside doing other things that may force me to take more time.

I'm very sad at the same time, though. I really love my current job. I love the people, the kids we work with, and how we make a difference in their lives. I'm glad that at the very least, I have another six months before I have to leave. I'm not ready to go. I think I may keep volunteering. It's important to keep giving back anyway and this organization can use my skillset. I don't have to make these decisions today, but I did respond today and gladly accept the offer from the school of criminal justice. You don't turn down amazing opportunities! 

I am just working on believing that I deserve them.

Freckles' Long Bus Ride

When people are not a medical risk, as I was deemed (although my doc never saw me), transportation upon release of prison does not usually include a quick flight home. This week, Freckles gives us some insight into what her travel was like as she had to leave FMC Carswell and check into her halfway house:

Do people really still ride the Greyhound bus? Well, the answer is surprisingly "yes" and it is the BOP's preferred mode of transportation. Being a "travel snob" you can imagine mine and the family's reaction when I was told I was being sent home on a 25 hour bus journey.  Your family can buy you a plane ticket, which was what my family was going to do and we were all prepared to go through with the ticketing, when I realized this too is also a big "ordeal" with the BOP and I could picture things going extremely wrong. Especially because my airline ticket would be in my married name which all my identification is in, but I was incarcerated under my maiden name - so try explaining that to anyone. I had a hard enough time self surrendering with my ID in a different name than was on their "list" of daily arrivals. 

So anyways, on with the story.  I did the RDAP program at the institution which amazingly enough taught me a lot about myself, the first being I'm an extremely entitled beotch. So why not use some of these "tools" and start applying them to real life which I was about to be reintroduced to.  After much debate and discussion with my family (who was still resisting), I decided to choose the Greyhound as my mode of transportation back home. After all, I survived in a federal prison for the past year, how much worse could a Greyhound bus ride be? And it got me out of the institution a day early - since your halfway house date is the date you arrive at the HH, not the day you leave the institution, so the 25 hour journey let me leave a day early.

I was the only person leaving the institution at my specific time so it was an amazingly quick trip thru R&D and now out the front gates. A walk which is filled with emotions, people waving at you and hooting and hollering and the guards smirking and reminding you that based on the statistics you probably will be back. I just smiled at them and let them think whatever they wanted, "fly under the radar" as my boss always told me. No need to make waves now.  

The town driver, who is an inmate from the camp, picked me up in a small compact car and off we went. I was amazed how large the base was and it is basically a "town" within itself, own gas stations, stores, housing etc.....but we were now leaving the base and off to the downtown bus station. The town driver took me to the counter, spoke with the ticketing agent and within minutes I had my one way ticket out of Texas - wooohooo - was never so happy to be dumped at a bus station with a huge bag of my personal possessions and some cash and a debit card. The institution provides you cash for meals and a cab ride to the HH when you get to your destination and then the money on your "books" is turned into a debit card. 

 I walked about 5 blocks in the 100 degree heat (it was August in Texas) and got some "essentials" for the ride. Some bottled water, real fruit juices and healthy snacks. The attendant asked me if I wanted cigarettes, apparently that is their largest seller with the inmates leaving prison, and I with my bags and "deer in the headlights" look, screamed federal inmate.

The station where I originated was not bad, but let me tell you, our first stop was Dallas and it was horrifying. I walked about a block to a McDonald's to just get away from the station. This walk was filled with bums, prostitutes and drunks (mind you it's still daytime), singing to me and asking me if they could come with me. Wow, pre-prison Freckles would have grabbed the first cab to DFW airport and caught a plane home. But the lesson of humility set in once again, and I was polite to everyone and held my head high with confidence. I survived in prison, I can survive this trek.

The rest of the ride was interesting. I did meet some characters who helped pass the time and told me of their stories and how they came upon the bus. One lady originated in California and was heading to one of the Carolina's to see her high school friends. She was an "inspiring" actress, unfortunately about 20 years past her prime. I stared out the window and watched the sights, this was really happening. It was a full moon that night, which made for great scenery too. On our next stop - we had the police enter the bus with drug sniffing dogs and question all of us and then we evacuated the bus and they brought the dogs in. Nothing was found - but apparently on one of the stops before I boarded, there were two people removed from the bus and arrested for drugs. 

In the middle of the night we stopped and had to pick up passengers from a bus that broke down in the middle of nowhere and had been stranded for 8 hours (thank goodness it wasn't my bus) - so I now had to share my "row" with a teenage girl traveling with her mom and brother. Another sad story of a kid who had been on the bus for over a day and smelt like she had not changed or taken a shower. But again, I chatted with her and shared some of my snacks with her and helped the time go by for both of us. 

I eventually did fall asleep. Most of the stops are just pick up and drop off spots in the middle of nowhere, some are large stations with everything from food to souvenir shops and some are at gas stations, so look at your itinerary because you have to plan your meals accordingly since some stops you do not even leave the bus. Our driver was very helpful and basically mapped out his entire shift with us and gave us the "Greyhound for dummies" breakdown. 

After some bus changes in the larger hubs, I was almost home. Crossing the state line into my state was exhilarating, I wanted to scream stop the bus and take a picture of me in front of it - realizing I had no camera, no phone, no nothing - so I guess I'd just put this image in my mind of pictures that is pretty full from prison, but some lasting memories I will never forget. I was met at the bus station by my family (including my dog), with a malt (something I had been craving) and a gyro.

All in all - the bus ride is not bad. As with anything, it is what you make of it. My 25 hour journey could've been horrifying (like the "3 hour tour" on Gilligan's Island) or somewhat enjoyable - which for me it was. Appreciate the small things that before I took for granted, which now I embrace.

------

I'm so glad that Freckles has chosen to share her journeys with us all. They add so much to my own so that those who will follow us can be ready for the vast differences that can possibly come their way. Truth is that even when the moment seems so bad, the moment passes and they get better. There were times that I'm sure Freckles questioned why she didn't just have her parents purchase her a flight home, but those moments were fleeting and passed by. Eventually we are able to move past even the hardest of times. I could never imagine that my life eight months from my release could be as good as it is today, but it is. Freckles' life is good too. We do it one day at a time.

It is Official - I'm Back!!!!

I received an official email this afternoon congratulating me as a new admit as a doctoral student in the criminal justice college at my University. One would think that my earlier admission simply back into the University and into the graduate school would have been the biggest news for me. It probably should have been. However, having spent this past semester and currently, taking courses toward a Master's Degree in Criminal Justice, I've questioned whether I've gone this path because it appeared open to me as I was trying to figure out "what next?" or if I really belonged on this new journey.

I have to admit, I love studying criminal justice. I loved studying education and everything I learned I take with me into the field of criminal justice and will apply to what I do as a Professor and, hopefully, in service to the future University I work with. However, I truly believe I had this experience of imprisonment as a way to help make change in this world. No one should have to experience some of the realities I witnessed while I was locked up. Some were so atrocious, I could not even write about them as I knew the blog was monitored. Of course, I could never name names and will never do so. However, it is not just about Carswell, it is about the inequities in crime and punishment. It is about how we treat non-violent offenders. It is about sentencing guidelines that make no sense with the majority of people who commit the crimes. It's about the fact that a one-year sentence vs. a 10 year sentence has shown no different in effectiveness for deterrence to crime. It is about the fact that the real services that people need in prisons are not being provided. It is about the fact that the healthcare within the prison system is entirely inadequate and at times inhumane. Etc. I cannot fix everything. But, I cannot be silent. The way I have a voice, is through my research, my teaching, and my writing.

So this evening, when I received the email, just a couple sentenced letting me know that I was admitted into one of the top CJ programs in the country - a very competitive program - one that will fund me throughout my doctoral studies and support me and my research interests - I sat down and was speechless. If you can guess, it takes A LOT to make me speechless. I didn't even announce it on FaceBook for a couple hours (a miracle!!!). My eyes welled up in tears and I only sent out a couple texts to my closest people and that was it. They accepted me. I'm officially a doctoral student again. Just six months out from prison and nearly halfway done with my Master's Degree in CJ (a 2 year degree that I am completing in 1 year), and I was accepted into the program. I will be able to transfer in some of those CJ doctoral credits I've been taking and some other credits and I should be able to finish completely within about 4 years (2019 graduation) as long as I don't get too ill or lose my focus on what I choose to do for my dissertation.

So, how does someone who has just been admitted to the doctoral program spend her evening? I just mapped out all my classes for the next four years and have a plan to get me to graduation. This nerd is ready to take on her new PhD program. It officially starts in Fall, 2015 as I have to complete this Master's Degree first. I've done a lot of thinking about this step of having to complete the Master's Degree and I am grateful that since I approached the department in July, it was the only way "into" the college - since school started in August and PhD applicants can only be selected during the January application process. It has helped me work my program of acceptance, being humble, and realizing that I need to trust my higher power. I have learned a great deal this year and need this knowledge to be successful in the doctoral program. So, no regrets at all. That's the thing about trusting opportunities - as long as they seem to be leading you to where you may want to go, you need to take the chance!

One year ago I wrote a blog about how my life would be so different in a year and nothing about prison would matter. I was wrong on the second part. Life in prison definitely matters, because it has helped me know how I am going to help others in the future. However, my life is incredibly different than it was a year ago. A year ago I questioned if I would ever be a student again, yet I had a hope that I would get back into my University. I promised all of you that I would. I did. I also promised that I would fight to be a PhD student again. I am happy to report that step is complete as well.

For everyone who also has a history with a felony, I understand that it is hard to have so many people tell us that we "can't." I'm like a broken record when I talk about and write about "second chances" when I have talked with admissions, etc. about my story. I use my story as an asset, rather than a hinderance. If we are honest about our mistakes and share our lessons and show our humility, we are much more likely to get to where we need to get to in life. It is when we blame everyone else in the world and take no responsibility that life just gets harder and harder for us. I know that no one is "giving" me this opportunity. I am earning it through hard work and a lot of perseverance. Anyone can do this. It does not matter where we start --- what matters is where we finish!! We have to stop looking back and just start looking forward.

Federal Supervision Overload

I've been in contact with my parole officer a lot lately... too much for comfort if I do say so myself. When I received permission to go to the GA conference in Lexington, part of that permission required me to leave messages with my PO every step of the way. Each trip I make has its own set of rules. For this trip, I called him when we set off on the road, when we arrived in Lexington, and when we finished the conference and started heading back. Each time resulted in a short message on his voicemail with an update of my trip.

Just prior to going, I had to call him and tell him that I'd been stopped by a police officer for speeding on campus. My honesty got me out of a ticket that time. The fact that the officer immediately knew that I was on federal supervision was a little unnerving but comes with the territory, I suppose.

Then, as I was filling out my monthly online report early this week, I realized that I'd talked with someone at the conference that had been incarcerated before - I mentioned her here on the blog as the person who had spent time at Lexington. Well, out of the requirements of supervision, in one of my messages to my PO over the weekend, I'd mentioned it to him as well. What that meant, is that I had to answer that question in the positive on my monthly report, which was the first time I'd done so. I wanted to talk to my PO and make sure that was the case. I don't even remember the woman's name and know nothing of the details of her crime. This time, my PO called me back and Yes, I do have to report it. So, in filling out my monthly report, I put the small amount of details of having an interaction with another felon. My PO told me that it will not adversely affect me in any way, it is just protocol to report it. It was interesting in answering the questions, as I hadn't realized that many people probably have to say, "yes," all the time due to family members and other close relations having past felonies.

Then, my PO calls me and tells me that I have an 80 question survey that I need to fill out. Since I am just past 6 months, it's my guess that I need to fill this out every 6 months, because it is the same survey I filled out right at the beginning. I had to make my way over to my PO's office and it took me about 7 minutes to complete. It's one of those surveys that wants to make sure we are really sorry for our criminal acts to ensure we do not still have criminal thoughts, that we are not blaming the world for our punishments, that we are thinking clearly, etc. Every so often, there is a question thrown in that you should answer in the opposite of all the other questions, just to be sure you ARE paying attention to the actual questions on the survey. I write surveys, I know what to do on this. I answered honestly, nonetheless! Truth be told, without recovery, I would not have the clear mind to really understand things the way I understand them today. I always blamed myself, of course, but I thought of myself as broken, instead of really understanding underlying addiction and irrational thinking and actions. In recovery, I have the ability to have rational thoughts and choices over my actions, in addiction, I honestly could not be trusted to make any rational decisions or choices.

Given all the above, I don't want to have to make the call I need to make later today... every interaction - big or small - with police must be reported. T.S. parked my car this morning and it received a parking ticket. Sounds too small to report, right? But even an infraction with my car shows up in his office. So, once again, I have to contact my PO. Here I am wanting favors and to get off supervision, and in a short period of time I get stopped for speeding (it was 37 in a 25) and now a parking ticket. They are small infractions, but I for one want none. When on supervision the idea is to keep ourselves out of trouble. I got a little frustrated this morning - not so much with T.S., but with my inability to "control" - which is far outside of working my GA recovery program. I just need to go with the flow, I guess. What will happen, will happen.

I guess I better stop writing and give my PO a call... good thing it'll probably be his voicemail...

29 Days on Whole30

Wednesday is officially day 30 of my Whole30 food elimination. For the past 29 days I have intentionally not ingested any grains, legumes, dairy, or sugars (except those naturally in foods like fruits). I've learned to read every food label. I never knew how many ways labels hid "sugar" in products with fancy names. I've learned about healthy fats (coconut oils/olive oil) and whole foods and nitrates and grass fed meats and organic and preservatives and nightshade veggies and even a little of how to cook better. It's been quite the month!

I'm not done. Over the next month, I will slowly reintroduce foods into my system. I'm starting with rice. I was once told by a naturopath that I may have an intolerance for rice. I'll find out on thurs/fri when I may have a reaction to eating it on Thursday. I will stay eating my whole30 on Friday/Saturday. Then I'll introduce something else on Sunday. It'll be that rotation for just over a month. 

I'll write down any symptoms I have to foods. They could include gut issues, headaches, inflammation, sleeping problems, skin reaction, etc. If I react to a food, then I make the decision to include it in my future diet or not. Somehow this past weekend something I ate was contaminated and I got really swollen - Unfortunately, I have no idea what food it was, but once I reintroduce the culprit and it happens again, I will be taking it out of my diet permanently!

I'm thinking about continuing Paleo after completing the reintroduction of foods. I really enjoy not having so much processed food in my life. I may do a specific autoimmune protocol that is a bit more food limiting for a bit as I read that people actually get off their medications. That would be something!!! Even if I could just slow down the progression of my illness, I'd be ecstatic.

I'm not sure how much weight I've lost. I know I've lost some pounds and some inches. That's good. What I like the most is that my energy is more consistent and I don't feel hungry all the time. The food all tastes so great too! I can't say enough about how much I have enjoyed the whole30 experience. Joy may have introduced me to it, but it's brought me a lot of joy myself!

FCI Lexington

This weekend, I attended a GA conference in Lexington, Kentucky. It was a fantastic conference. It was not the biggest gambler's anonymous conference I've been to, but it did not need to be. It had people who worked a serious recovery program and the workshops were wonderful. I met people from at least six states and many people with more than 20 years of recovery. I love hearing their stories and learning from those who have successfully continued their recovery for so long. It's an important part of my recovery to meet new people and getting to different conferences is always a learning experience.

Before leaving Lexington this morning, I reached for my phone and mapped out the directions to FCI Lexington. FCI Lexington is primarily a men's medical facility - much like Carswell is for women. It also has an adjacent minimum security women's satellite camp. Lola started her imprisonment at the Lexington satellite camp and Mama is there now (she was transferred there before the holidays). I'm so glad Mama is there - her parents and her children now can visit her every weekend! That's the way it should be. People should not be placed thousands of miles away from home. Had I not had a medical issue, I may have been placed at that camp.

I just felt like it was important to drive to the space, think about Mama, and to say the serenity prayer. Turned out that I was only 12 minutes away from the prison...

Seeing the sign say "federal medical center" felt a little too much like Carswell, but I knew that this place is nothing like Carswell. There are five medical centers for men and only one for women, so their experiences are different - they don't house all classifications of security together. They may have men at the same facilities that have different security levels, but they will house them in different kinds of units. They have separate medical facilities for cancer treatments (Butner) and mental health (Devens). The administrative units house all levels, but no place is like Carswell, Carswell is like an experiment on how much stress you can cause women who do not belong in a secured prison filled with fairly violent individuals. Truth be told, most the people I met were fairly decent women. There were just some scary ones thrown in that made the whole experience not so good. 

I actually met a woman at the conference this weekend who did about 15 months at Lexington for a crime related to her gambling. She said that it was like living at a really bad college dorm. I said that was nothing like my experience in prison. That's the thing... every prison is so different - just like Freckles at the HWH. Her experience is so different than my own. Plus, this woman I met was at a camp - what I was sentenced to - but I went to the FMC... as I've said before - avoid an FMC if you can!!!

Mama is doing well at Lexington, I believe. That's good. Not I got to see where she is. It makes me feel better knowing this. Unfortunately, a car pulled up behind Sporty and I as we were taking this picture and another and we continued for a second down the road until we realized we were about to get to the point of no return and I'd actually be headed TO THE PRISON. Let me tell you, that's the LAST place I plan to go!!! So I stopped so the car could pass me and I could back up. Well, as the car passed by me, the person driving looked over at us with the meanest eyes and the man was dressed as a C.O. and looked so mad and I KNEW that look and it brought me right back to my life at Carswell and I wanted to be anywhere than on the property of a federal prison!!!! We slowly backed the car up and stopped back at the main sign. I took Sporty's hand and said...

"God, grant me the serenity (Sporty joined in...)

to accept the things I cannot change

the courage to change the things I can

and the courage to know the difference..."

That serenity prayer was for Mama, it was for all the prisoners who are housed there. It was for all the people who will be there in the future and it was for me.

We drove away and started our drive back to home.

Freckles and Men at the HWH

Here's another edition of life at a federal halfway house by Freckles. I find it fascinating that her experience is so interlaced with the males, as at mine we were not ever allowed to even talk to the men and were separated in every way...

"As we are release from prison to the half way house - we have a pretty decent routine down and one part of that is always being around other females inmates, our only male contact are the guards and our visitors. Well, you can imagine my shock and surprise when I arrived at my half way house with only 4 women in two rooms tucked in the corner of the second story. There is a 10-1 ratio of men to women. Their "idea" of keeping us separate is having our two rooms and one bathroom down at the end of the second floor hallway. There are males roomed in the next room and their bathroom is at the other end of the hall. The third floor is all males and that is where the TV room is. The women have no separate work out area, dining area or even TV room. The TV room is more of a hang out and break rules room than anything - so bring your own TV and/or DVD player and stick to being in your own room. Yes, people may call this isolation, I call it surviving the half way house.

The males are told to "stay away" from our doors and do not use the women's only bathroom (that is clearly marked). But do you think this works? If you guessed "No" you are right. There were instances of men showering in our bathroom and one bigger gentlemen even broke our toilet seat - I won't get into the specifics on that one. They come and knock on my door at 2am, not looking for me but for a roommate. This really freaked me out considering they can basically "peep" in the window. The doors have a small let's say 12"x12" window that is covered with a towel hung up with push pins - very classy and secure stuff and easily accessible for peeping Tom's! There are areas of the house where the camera's can not see - and from what I was told from another inmate I was in RDAP with, these rooms are typically called the "boom boom room" - again, some things I don't need to explain. 

The half way house is required to provide hygiene - well, the men decided that they liked the Suave deodorant for the ladies better than the Speed Stick for men which left us out of deodorant and the half way house refusing to order any until the men's was gone. So yes, now you have women trying to find a job smelling like a man. Seems petty, but it's just one of the many instances when being a woman is definitely a disadvantage. And chow, well let's just say if you're not the first few in line, good luck getting certain items. They have gotten better at this and staff does most of the serving - but there is never a time where someone doesn't have 20 juices in their room and we have none for breakfast or the hard boiled eggs are gone by 5am because some weightlifting male is on an all protein kick (mind you breakfast starts at 6am) - maybe not just a "man" thing - but more like an untrained animal thing. Some do not show respect - and that's just how it is. I was told a women's place is to clean - the men shouldn't have chores in the half way house - we are lucky Freckles has not had to get her tongue surgically re-attached after biting it off!

I guess if you're heading there looking for a "date" (and you're not gay) you're odds are pretty good. Some of the men are genuine stalkers, 30+ phone calls and/or texts in maybe 10 minutes, professing their love for you and wondering why you won't give them any attention but you did kiss them in the courtyard - again, you can't tell "security" because then you are a "rat" but you may indeed feel threatened. If you are looking for other female support or time away from the gawking males who haven't seen women in years - well good luck. Like always, there are the respectful ones - and as a person my advice is to find them and don't date at the half way house. Like my boss in prison once said - "don't sh*t where you eat"...." -Freckles

There are different rules in every HWH. Freckles happens to have been placedin one where the number of men far outnumber the number of women and therefore, there is a lot of interaction. A roommate of mine in Carswell was from another city and she received brochures from four HWHs while we were there, each with different rules around how much interaction you could have with the opposite gender. In some, just being friendly can get you a violation, in others you can date. None will allow sexual interactions that I know of (not that it doesn't happen. While I was at my HWH, one girl, who was already pregnant, was always trying to talk with this guy on the other side of the dining wall who she kinda knew from before and make "plans" for meeting up. That's the only time we ever saw or heard the guys, during meals when we shared the same space separated by a folding half wall.

Anyway, more from Freckles to come next week!

Letters Home

Last night I stayed up late reading a pile of letters I wrote to Survivor. I asked Survivor, Cashe, Traveler, and Sporty to provide me with the letters I wrote them while I was incarcerated. I want to add what I wrote here on here (where appropriate) because often my detail of life at Carswell was in a lot more description.

Putting pen to paper, and not having to pay 5cents per minute with a line of women waiting for the computers behind me, especially as things unfolded through the day, can provide much more detail of life at Carswell. Survivor's very first letter from me was not even a letter. It was a bunch of short comments spread along the words, "I'm ok" written giant on the paper. I think too much shock led me to not being able to put together real sentences and paragraphs. By the next day or so I wrote her a real letter.

My plan is to type the relevant parts of the letters into this blog based on the timing of the letters. On blogger, I can backdate entries. So you all know that there is a new entry. I will provide links in the present day to the new posts that are put to the day they were actually written in real time. I think that makes the most sense. 

One fascinating letter I read last night was during a long lockdown we had that appeared to be a haz-mat medical situation. I wrote the entire time and shared the information of what was unfolding as we were learning it. I'd forgotten about that day until reading that letter!

Another set of letters I have are more academic. I wrote them to Cashe and Traveler. I wrote more in depth about gender and sexual orientation issues and observations. I look forward to sharing these thoughts with all of you!!

So, over the next several weeks, I'll be starting that process of blog updating. l hope you all enjoy the new editions!! I know I went through some periods of adjustments here with my blog, but as you can see, I think I've found my rhythm again lately. I guess it was blog writers block. I'm back!!!!

A Halfway House for Freckles

Before parting, I asked Freckles to be part of the future of this blog. I wanted her experience in her HWH to be able to be here since my HWH experience was so uncommon. Freckles was part of the RDAP (drug and alcohol program) at Carswell and was then released to a federal halfway house for an extended HWH stay where she needed to do continued drug/alcohol check-ins and programming. It has been about six months and her first installment has arrived for the blog:

Upon arrival I was terrified. I'm not sure why all the housing is located in the ghetto's of each city but that is the trend, so be prepared. In my area, the house is located in a neighborhood that I have never frequented and for sure would never head into as a white female after dark unescorted. But unfortunately, each night after work I headed back to a crime ridden area around 9pm - very dark at that time in my Midwestern state and had to go to the door and ring a bell and wait to be let in.  Most of the times the staff is very prompt at buzzing you in - but there are instances where you will wait. While waiting, you see the blood stains on the wheelchair ramp where a former resident got beat and had his money stolen from him, you watch the drug deals go on right in front of your face either from car windows or half opened crack house doors. It's terrifying - thank goodness most of the other residents recognized what a "square" I was, and were there to protect me and help me adjust. Which to this day is the one thing I find amazing about this place - regardless of color, background, felony charge, or "class status"; most of the people are just "people" and willing to help you out when needed (even while nicknaming you Martha Stewart or the square).

I cried the first night there - wishing I was back in Texas. Yes, I was longing for CarsHell compared to this dump. I was informed by another female resident that this was a "trap" house. Well, apparently that is "ghetto slang" for a drug house. And that's truly what goes on - there are tons of people smoking K-2 (which is "fake pot"), alcohol is sneaked in or thrown over the fence on a daily basis so you have the residents getting their "drink on" and then you have the occasional resident who sneaks off to another major city or State to hit the strip clubs during their so called "working" hours because they have someone to cover for them.

I obviously got over the wanting to go back to Texas and realized the positives outweighed the negatives of the halfway house. I was now only about 30 minutes from home and much closer to family. I was allowed a cell phone, so could talk to everyone as much as I wanted or whatever hours I wanted. For the first week you are trapped there - no movement whatsoever except to go to their doctor for a physical. You are allowed visitors on weekends, my sister and mom only came once, due to the neighborhood, they were not coming back but I don't blame them. Before prison, I wouldn't have come back either - another humility lesson that only prison can teach a person.

But like prison, your "cellie" makes a huge difference, not too long after getting there, my "funky bunky" as I called her, got hauled off by the marshalls (what a surprise, haha) and I had the room to myself for a bit which was nice, but also a bit odd since I had just spent the past year with no alone time period. So adjusting to "quiet" and alone time were also big obstacles. But you get over it quick and sleeping in a dark, quiet room are very much appreciated!

My strongest words of advice are do not forget where you came from, because you can easily be put back there and also remember that you are still in BOP custody and while at the "half wit" house and BOP still stands for "backwards on purpose". I am still in custody and will be until 3/30. So I will keep sending blurbs regarding the transition that hopefully can shed some light on what to expect. I'm not trying to scare anyone, but be prepared for the worst, but make the best out of it. You're almost done with your prison ordeal and now is time to move forward and keep your energy positive and yourself focused....until later, Freckles.

As you can tell, Freckles can be a bit blunt. Gotta love her! She was my rock at Carswell and by far one of the smartest people I know. She certainly comes from a class privilege above mine, so she's experiencing things for the first time from a point of view that I think is valuable to hear from. At times it may sound like she's being judgmental, but the funniest thing is that Freckles is the person who makes friends with everyone and has the biggest smile and laugh and makes everyone else smile. She's right, though, they will make up names for her just because of her being naive. It's more in fun than in judgment.

I hope it's okay that I include some of her experiences here as she chooses to add to the blog. Communication restrictions make it hard for me to know much of anything, but perhaps this blog is a nice way of allowing us to stay connected through supervision. Feel free to ask her questions through comments as I know she reads the blog as well.

No Cake?

Being on this Whole30 diet this month means that we had some limitations on how to celebrate my birthday. For the first time in over two weeks, we decided to go out to eat, and struggle to figure out how to stay compliant with the confines of no sugar, legumes, dairy, or grains. We went to a steakhouse.

Turns out the need for "clarified butter" was no problem. They cook with it all the time. Ghee (or clarified butter) is dairy-free butter. So, I ordered a nice steak, veggies that were sautéed in olive oil and garlic, and a baked potato. 100% whole30 compliant. Sporty ordered Sea Bass and pretty much the same as my sides. It wasn't easy. Thier sweet potato was sautéed in brown sugar - nope can't have that. Their lamb chops had a non-compliant marinade. Even most of the salads failed the Whole30 diet. At day 15, we were not about to cheat on our 30 day elimination for one evening's dinner!

Sporty even had some Ghee in her purse, just in case the restaurant didn't have it. We sneakily pulled it out and put it on our potato.

At the end of the night, Sporty was upset that she couldn't provide me with a dessert. Desserts in general, except fruit, are not Whole30 compliant, but especially sweet tooth desserts. We looked up some possibilities of almost compliant desserts that Sporty could make us using compliant foods, but nothing seemed all that appetizing nor did I want them that much.

Truth is, I don't need a cake to feel loved. I don't need any gifts to celebrate my birthday. In fact, I like to give gifts to those celebrating with me. I'm just happy to be alive another year. I'm happy to be living a life of honesty and willingness and openness and recovery. 

I do not need to make any birthday wishes, I'm living my wishes. This year, I am going to unexpectedly have another Master's Degree, move into a new home (albeit rental), possibly officially start the doctoral program (fingers crossed), write my heart on paper, love children, hopefully get off federal supervision, spend time with those I love, and more! What more could I wish for?!?!?

So, no regrets of no cake! In fact, I was in bed by 10pm. I was exhausted. They are switching me from Enbrel to Cimzia, and time has lapsed between my last injection while I'm waiting for my insurance to come through on the new one. Typical! So, I got a good night's sleep.

Another good thing happened yesterday. I usually get a phone call on my bday from my mom that kinda goes, "Happy Birthday... Your card is in the mail..." Well, this year, she actually mailed my card a couple days ago and it arrived on my birthday. I was so happy that she thought about it in advance and mailed me a card to arrive on my bday. That was something special - and different! 

Lastly, I just want to mention how warm and fuzzy all my friends and family made me feel yesterday. I received texts, phone calls, and so many Facebook messages. Cake may feel warm and sweet momentarily, but the warmth and sweetness of the people who love and support me will last me all the way to my next birthday!!!