Whatever the security level you are sentenced to, you have a lot of time to think. Even if you are disciplined, and go to classes, the gym, read and write, there is much time available to process, observe and think about your life and the world around you.
I have always been a person who has taken the time to be involved in a lot of things. Even prior to self surrendering on December 4th, I was working two jobs. Therefore, keeping busy here has been a priority for me. In the downtimes, especially in the evenings after our final count by our rooms at 9pm, I have a lot of time to think. I miss kissing my husband goodnight, and falling asleep in his arms. The rooms here are cold, as the windows are not entirely sealed, and the brutal sub-zero temperatures are evident as the wind whistles through the seal. The thin blankets provided don’t offer much warmth, so I often sleep with three layers. The creature comforts of home, and reassurance of a supportive and loving spouse are missed daily.
During the day, I have been taking note of the things that I wish I could operationalize and improve in this prison. Can’t help it, it’s been many years of process improvements and assisting organizations that makes me think this way. My main areas of focus are within the realm of prison reform. Now that I am incarcerated, I have a front row view into what it is like to go through the process within the Department of Justice, and what it means to have all of your rights stripped away. I have seen first hand the inept medical care, lack of resources for those with substance use disorders and mental health needs, and more. Fortunately for me, this prison has an excellent Unit Manager and team. Even the Assistant Warden makes herself available to listening to the inmates and appears to genuinely care what happens here. I have heard horror stories from fellow inmates of how other prisons operate, and grateful that if I have to be here, it’s ran by people who are trying to do their best within their limited resources.
I have journals entailing work I want to continue once released, and advocacy I want to do for prison reform. I also teach a religious class Wednesday evenings here, which is very well received. Those evenings, I want to share a message of hope, and give them something to think of beyond these delapidated walls. I often think of the story of the starfish. Where there is a family walking along the beach, and there are numerous starfish strewn along the shore. A little girl picks one up at a time, and throws it back into the ocean. Her brother asks “What are you doing?” She said “Saving it’s life”. He then says, “That isn’t going to help, there are too many”. To which she replies while throwing another starfish in the ocean, “It mattered to that one.”
I am only one person, and I know my goals are lofty in wanting to help serve others, even while in prison. Much to my husband’s chagrin, he married someone who is dedicated to a life of service. I have always appreciated his love for me, and grateful he understands how much my work in service means to me. That’s why I would always make a point to cook elaborate meals for him and my family, and set up adventures for us to go on, so he knows he is first in my heart, and that I have learned a work-life balance where my marriage comes first. But just as the girl throwing the starfish in the ocean may only be able to help one starfish at a time, I know the service I provide here, the guidance and grace I try to live by- maybe it will matter to just one person. And that’s enough for me.
