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.

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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.