Day 7:
I am a convicted felon.
Yes, it’s been a week here - but nonetheless, weird to say aloud.
The past days have been a blur; security here, big scary dude there.
Ugh - and the people.
The people, the inmates, are horrible.
I mean, seriously, you’d think being in jail so long would mellow people out,
yet they find every reason to harass me.
I know felons are tough,
but these men are seriously messed up.
If we’re all here together,
why make the experience worse?
Day 31:
The last month was rough.
Yesterday I got into my first fight,
it was stupid, but I can’t let them walk over me.
This guy, some gang leader, hasn’t left me alone since I got here.
Then I finally snapped. My punishment?
No more yard time - for the next 3 weeks.
Since this, I finally understand why people go crazy.
We have no rights,
no freedom,
no control.
I made a mistake,
But how can I live with myself If I can’t even live?
Day 120:
Jail feels like middle school all over again.
You find your clique, and you stick with them.
I haven’t found my people yet,
but I’m finally adjusting to prison life.
Within my first months here, I’ve realized something.
The men who act the toughest,
are the ones who were hurt the most.
Of course, I don’t know them, but when you hear they way they grew up,
their childhoods full of,
neglect,
addiction,
abuse.
You can’t help but think,
Is prison really the best place for people who are simply,
traumatized?
Day 270:
My roommate finally opened up to me.
I share a cell with a guy,
muscles, tattoos, the whole package.
And guess what? 2 words. That’s the most he's ever said to me. I ask, what are you in for?
“Armed robbery.”
That’s the longest conversation we’ve ever had.
Until today.
I asked, “How’s your day been?”
“Bad.”
“Oh really, why?”
“Security called me an idiot.”
Security calls everyone an idiot, why is he so upset?
Maybe he can sense my confusion, cause he says,
“My dad always called me idiot. My dad is the reason I’m in here.”
After this conversation, I realized something.
Nobody understands.
Prison is supposed to be rehabilitating, yet everyone I’ve met in here is a mess.
A rude, angry, dirty, disrespectful mess.
When a child is constantly put down,
that child learns to get attention from other places.
That child fights,
burgles,
steals,
then that child is a grown man, locked behind bars.
Misunderstood,
mistreated,
unloved,
with nothing to live for.
Day 364:
Tomorrow I am done.
No more fights,
gross food,
or rude security.
Prison is designed to change people,
and I am changed.
I was never expected to succeed, but I’ve found myself getting brighter each day.
My takeaway from a year in prison goes as follows:
As unnatural it may seem,
I believe that prisoners have every right to be angry.
Someone, somewhere let them down.
They were never believed in, now they’re stuck.
As inhumane as the worst of them seem,
They just need help.
Some say it’s too hard to change the justice system,
but everything can be fixed if you push hard enough.
To those who believe change doesn’t exist,
be the change.
If it feels unnatural at first, that means you’re doing it correctly.
Commentaires