"I'm Still Hoping for a New Day Every 24 Hours"

That's a quote from one of the Restorative Justice class participants I saw graduate from the program on Monday at Columbia Correctional Institution. There was a lot that was really cool about it-- not only did the official diploma holders and speeches and so on mean a lot to a bunch of guys in maximum security prison, many of who have never successfully completed anything in their lives... but it was also cool that the reverend who runs the program brought all of these parishioners from his church to watch. Most of them had never been in a prison before, and now their experience was moving, uplifting, eloquent and replete with cake! MLKJ was quoted no fewer than 7 times and a really lovely allegory (it's all over the internet, like here) was told in the graduation speeches.

I hate prison. I hate the idea of it and I hate what it does to people. Going to prison is exhausting, even for me, just for the day. I find myself thinking about people who are in prison while I am going about doing other things... they are just still right there. It's interesting and depressing to see the different stages of acceptance and growth inmates have. I am not sure what I would do. At lunch on Monday, one of the social workers from the prison told us going to prison is her worst nightmare. She claimed she would kill herself before going to prison. I have been doing this small job since last spring, responding to inmate research requests from the federal supermax. Read about what it's like to be there. Twenty three hours a days in a cell alone. One hour of exercise. No contact with other people. I can't even imagine. I've responded to letters and had regular correspondence with some pretty illustrious guys over there... famous in the world of crime and "terror." This semester since now I am on a flatrate instead of an hourly payscale, I have found myself getting annoyed with some of the requests... I got one the other day, though, that jarred me out of being annoyed. I had provided this guy some divorce materials for Colorado, forms he could fill out and file himself. He wrote back, thanking me profusely and asking for a couple of other things. He included a copy of a form letter from the Colorado Bar... he had asked for referrals and they gave him an sheet of websites and phone numbers. Well, he mentioned, he doesn't have access to the internet. Or a phone. So could I just go to the website and tell him if there is a mailing address and what it is. "We are only allowed to send letters." Today I sent four letters to four different guys who, according to an old New York Times article were convicted together, two are cousins... I wondered if they even knew the others were there also? Did they all find me separately? How would they tell each other to write to me?

Anyway... most prisons are nothing like that. I am continually impressed by the brotherhood among inmates and how many help one another out. So I saw that on Monday, as well. Even though I missed out on the cake.