Yesterday afternoon a comic from Los Angeles, Michael Colyar, entertained us at Taft Camp. One of the prison’s case managers, Ms. Oliver, coordinated the show and I joined hundreds of prisoners on a lawn to listen and laugh. Before my prison term began, I used to enjoy comedy clubs but watching Michael Colyar was the first live comic show I’ve seen since then. Laughing felt good.
About 15 years ago, when I was confined in Pennsylvania, Willie Nelson brought his country band to perform for the prisoners. That was the last time before yesterday that I could remember seeing a live show. Professional entertainers are generous to donate their time by performing for prison audiences and I appreciate the efforts staff members make to coordinate arrangements. The entertaining diversion is a welcome break form the monotony of prison, even if it only comes once every 15 years.
As I sat on the lawn laughing at the jokes, I thought about what it would be like to live in the world and to enjoy the liberty of spending time with my wife. It sounds crazy but I struggle to envision my life outside of prison boundaries. I could envision Carole with me in some type of prison setting but I can’t complete the image in my mind of dressing in evening clothes, driving to a restaurant or a theater or an auditorium, and sitting beside my wife. All of these experiences will be new to me in ways that others don’t understand.
Others expect that I will still sense all of the privileges they take for granted. When I express that I haven’t lived with privacy since 1987, they don’t believe me. They don’t grasp that although I have times when I’m alone—as I’m alone in a room now—I never have privacy. At any moment a guard or another prisoner may walk by to peer through the windows or open the door without knocking. For a prisoner, privacy as it exists in the world is impossible. It doesn’t matter whether the prisoner is in bed, using the bathroom, or taking a shower–inquiring eyes can come without forewarning.
I’m conditioned to living in prison, of course. I understand my environment and I make adjustments to thrive in spite of it. Yet when I have these small tastes of what it’s like to live in the world, I’m reminded of how 23 years of prison has institutionalized me. Carole will have to help me get used to the world whenever my prison term ends.
This morning I ran 10 miles. I followed the run with 600 pushups.
[consecutive running log: 3,786 miles over 426 days]
[pushups in 2010: 14,800]
Thursday, 11 February 2010
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