For more Prison
Chronicles stories visit Introduction: The Prison Chronicles.
A Crack in Your
Argument
One student was complaining about
how crack cocaine was all a CIA scam meant to destroy the African American
community. Another student called him out and said, “Bro, you are HERE for
selling crack!”
So, I asked the first student
what he was charged with.
“Possession.”
“Of what?”
“300 vials of crack.”
“Did you buy it from a white guy
or a black guy?”
No response.
“Did you sell it to black
people?”
No response.
“Are you on crack right now?”
“No, man. What do you think I
am?”
“Well, right now I think you may work
for the CIA.”
_______________________________________________
Rats Are First to Abandon a Sinking Ship
A student in a county jail was
complaining about how the cops were corrupt for arresting him on an accessory
to murder charge. He kept loudly complaining about that it was total bullshit,
he had nothing to do with any murder, and he was only here because the DA was
squeezing him to rat on his friend and he, “Don’t rat for no one.”
Aside from the double negative
prophetically suggesting the obverse of that statement, I was tired of him
disrupting class. Since he wanted to take up my teaching time, I thought we
could use it as a little exercise in values clarification.
“What’s the deal with your case?” I asked.
The student explained that a
friend of his thought his girlfriend was cheating on him and needed a gun to
“set things straight,” thinking he meant to threaten the guy she was cheating
on. Instead, he killed her.
“And how did your friend get a
gun?
The student explained that he
knew a guy who sold drugs and kept a gun under his couch. So many people went
in and out of the guy’s apartment that my student figured he could steal the
gun and sell it to his friend and the dealer be none the wiser as to who stole
it.
“How much money did you get?”
“100 dollars and a half ounce of
weed.”
“Was this the first time your
friend ever got popped [arrested]?”
“Nah. He got some drug charges
and a domestic violence.”
“For hitting the same woman he later
killed?”
“Yeah.”
“So, you stole a gun from a guy
you bought drugs from, sold it to a friend who you knew was arrested for
beating his girlfriend who then used it to kill his girlfriend and all you got
was $100 and a half ounce of weed?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, you should have at least gotten a full ounce because they are going to send your ass to prison.”
[Classroom erupts in laughter.
Also, Einstein just told me and the entire class what he did.]
Two weeks later, the student rats
out his friend, cops to lesser changes, and is released on time served.
Eventually, everyone rats in
prison. E V E R Y O N E.
_______________________________________________
Sometimes, They Are
In prison education programs, some
students are there just to front for the courts. You know, show them they’re
serious about their “rehabilitation.” In county jails, most are there serving
short sentences of under a year or waiting for trial. One time, I had one very
big, very angry inmate student up on attempted murder charges who was just
pissed about everything, challenging me on every assignment I gave him, and
questioning my competency. I kept telling him to keep his attitude to himself,
be quiet, and do his work. I had to do this in several classes. Instead, he
kept bitching and moaning about his charges, bullying other students, and
trying to intimidate me. I told him he needed to behave himself or I would toss
him out of the program.
“Why you treating me like a
child!”
“Because you are ACTING like a
child.”
Keep in mind, I’m locked alone in
a room with this big angry man up on attempted murder charges and about a dozen
other students. The only thing keeping him from beating me to death for
challenging him like this in front of others is his common sense. It was a
constant battle with him, but he had some intelligence and I needed some
students to actually pass the GED that term. Nevertheless, he hated my guts.
As it turned out, he did get that
GED and guess what? The DA exonerated him of the charges. He was innocent after
all.
_______________________________________________
Sometimes, You Feel Like a Nut
Mental illness is rife in prison,
and even then we sometimes have students who have serious mental conditions who
should be in a secured mental unit and not out in general population. One such
student was David. He was prone to talking to himself and sort of lived in his
own world. I don’t remember what he was in for, but something related to his
behavior when he was off his meds. I made him my inmate clerk so he could get out
of the block a little more often than the others.
The teacher's office was adjacent
to a classroom I worked in and had a long horizontal observation window
installed so the officers could see in the classroom. These were situated about
half-way up the wall. Between modules one day, I say down to relax. Now, keep
in mind, the observational windows are installed about halfway up the wall, and
I’m pretty short, so when I sit down on a chair against the wall, no one can
see me in the office.
Another teacher just started that
day. She was a veteran teacher who had been out on sick leave for the better
part of a year receiving cancer treatments and given the turnover in a county
jail the students did not know who she was. Also, she is a tall, bald woman with
a loud personality. Frustrated with the changes in the program since she left,
and the inmates’ behavior, she enters, shouting loudly and gesticulating with
her arms in a wild manner. The glass muted the sound, but one could easily tell
how agitated she was.
We had the afternoon class and
when it was over David waited for the other teacher to go into the office and
then he approached me. He said he saw the other teacher widely failing her arms
about and loudly talking to herself between modules today. David pulled me in
closer to him and whispered: “Tell her it’s OK to talk to herself. Everyone
gets a little crazy now and then.”
I was touched by what David said. His empathy showed he was sensitive to the hurt of others. Here was
someone incarcerated, alone, living with a mental illness, reaching out to show
his concern for someone who was not in prison, but someone he thought was
suffering like he was suffering.
I didn't have the heart to tell him
I was in the office all along, she was actually talking to me, and that he just
couldn’t see me, so I never told him and let him think that my co-teacher was
crazy.
● ● ●