I’ve been reading from two books and a published paper on California’s prison system that Dr. Joan Petersilia wrote. She is a distinguihsed professor who publishes extensively on issues pertaining to crime and corrections. As I read these academic writings I remember my early years as a prisoner, and the reality of how much of my life has been lost to the prison system slams me in the head.
As I move through each passing day I feel strong and purposeful. This morning, I woke at 2:10 and I was writing at 2:19. I expected a visit, so I had to finish my writing goals and my exercise early. These incremental goals I set power me through each hour. Instead of dwelling on how many years must pass before release, I focus on the projects I want to complete, the exercise targets I want to reach, or the next time I will see my lovely Carole. Moving forward does not challenge my spirit as much as looking back.
When I read these descriptions that Dr. Petersilia writes about the corrections system, I cannot help but remember the day I first heard the guards locking the heavy steel door behind me. I remember sitting on that bench in that closet-sized room back in August of 1987. Nicotine residue stained the walls. The dank smell made me want to puke. I couldn’t really believe that I would sleep in a prison that night. Yet ever since then, I’ve slept in prisons every night. It exhausts me to look back, to think about how much time has passed.
I no longer feel as if I’m a real part of my extended family. The rules of prison prohibit me from having a normal relationship with them. I have one niece in college and another entering junior high school I think; they don’t know me and I don’t know them. My relationship with my two sisters feels distant despite my love for them both. I don’t know much about my mother’s life. My father died several years ago and I could not even attend the funeral. When I look back, I feel very much a prisoner.
These books force me to revisit and accept the costs of my imprisonment, though I feel as if I must read them in order to prepare for the challenges ahead. I hate to look back. The solution for me is looking forward, moving through each day to the completion of my next set of goals. Traffic problems caused Carole to postpone our visit until Sunday, so I now look forward to embracing her then.
I ran three miles, boosting my tally to 1,172 miles over the past 133 days.
Friday, 24 April 2009
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