Strange Bedfellows

In my close to three years of working with inmates I have had the rather rare opportunity to get an increasingly unfolding glimpse into this unique universe.  It's a privilege that very few are afforded.

When I tell people what I do, and I always tell them with a sort of matter-of-fact pride, I generally get the same reaction--a pause, a "wow" and the question "Aren't you afraid?'"

Once a week I sit in a small rather intimate space with some pretty hardcore male felons, the ones who have done some very long stints in federal prison.  I also lead a workshop in a larger space with the "county" men, those who have done less time in less restrictive settings.  I have never been afraid and in many ways, I have never been more respected by a group of people in my life.  When I go into jail in my volunteer capacity with women, even they will sometimes roll their eyes at me and ask "When is this class over?"

Folded into these groups of men, there are 19-yr olds and 70-yr olds.  The younger ones are a bit cocky, but their glowing smiles betray their swagger.  They are BABIES and I adore them. I'm sure they see me as a rather cool old lady spouting stuff they've heard before but in a much more enjoyable way than the way they're used to being talked "at."  Often when they get restless and try to "class clown" their way through the hour the older guys tell them to shut the hell up and listen.  They tell them to take what I'm saying seriously and that navigating through the adult world isn't as easy as they might think.  The last time this happened, the young ones backed down and shut up.

Another older guy spun it differently by saying that they had a lot to learn from each other--that the younger guys could teach a lot of the older ones about what they've missed while they were locked-up and that the older ones could teach the young ones about the lives they have ahead of them while hopefully diverting them away from a continued life of crime.  I liked that spin.

The male "feds" have become my favorites (ssh...don't tell anyone).  They circulate through my group in 6-week sessions and generally there are no more than 7 guys at once. During my first group I sat around a small table with men who had done, when combined, approximately 100 years behind bars.  This was my first week on the job.  I was moved beyond words by a gentle man who had just finished 26 years who upon his release had no idea how to work the payphone in the bus station, let alone get on a subway when there are no longer tokens to buy from a human being.  He later had a major panic attack during rush hour on a train that had temporarily stopped between stations.

These men put me at ease.  They teased me and kicked-off my education into life behind the big bad bars and walls of some of the most over-crowded prisons scattered about the country--the ones you hear about on shows like "Locked Up."  They snuck me food from the cafeteria, plated beautifully.

I've cycled through about six groups of these guys who are mandated by the Bureau of Prisons to sit through certain workshops.  When they reveal the nature of their crimes it really doesn't change my personal opinions of them.  I kind of love that they can laugh at their stupidity in certain instances.

What they are doing now is finishing their sentences in a reentry program, often with at least 6 more months ahead of them.   What often happens is that men have served time at the same place and they've gotten to know each other on the "inside."  Again, the crimes are all mixed-up and those who have committed them are from all demographics and economic backgrounds.

As is typical, my groups are a microcosm of that world.  Black guys, white guys, Latino guys, 21-yr. olds and 70-yr olds.   We sit in the tv room (generally pissing off the other 100 guys who can't watch for an hour) and laugh.  Really, we laugh.  In my current group there are guys who don't even have to be there, but have heard about me so just come for the hell of it.  Two of them, a 30-yr old in on drug charges, and a 48-yr old white guy doing time for a series of bank robberies, knew each other before.  The young one was in first and apparently secretly slipped some pizza from the kitchen where he worked, to the older one on his first day, like a prison welcome wagon.  Bond formed.

They always sit next to each other on a couch and have their inside jokes, making the younger one crack-up in a very unlikely girly giggle.  The bank robber talks about how he can spot a drug dealer a mile away and the drug dealer talks about how they can spot a bank robber.  They laugh with each other and clearly adore each other.  They have lived in a world that they can understand, but that I never will.  They teach me things that most on the outside would never learn, and I adore them.  When they pass through and get released, I get misty over the ones I've formed the strongest bonds with.  If we were allowed to associate on the "outside" I know, without a doubt, that they would always,  have my, a white Jewish girl's back.