You wouldn’t think it from my posts on here, but when I get out behind the computer, or a podium, I am pretty reserved. When I am teaching, or sharing something I am passionate about in a public forum, while consulting or in church, I don’t appear to be introverted at all. But, as my husband would confirm, I am just as happy and comfortable in silence reading or taking a long drive (even more so) as I am providing counsel or education. I don’t like small talk, so in social situations, I observe for quite awhile, and analyze if my voice will add anything of value to any conversations. I actually want to understand people, and value their points of view. You can learn much more by listening. Most people listen to respond, rather than to understand. In prison, this is no different.
Cohabitating with 220+ women from various walks of life in prison is a social experiment that rivals Big Brother in all the best and worst ways. Not knowing how to navigate “prison life” can be a detriment to someone who has never been incarcerated in any form, and I feel fortunate that my introverted tendencies have helped me survive this new temporary reality. Upon arriving, my first few months were spent learning “how to prison”. The rules are backward in prison to me. “Snitches get stitches” is a real thing. If you see something in here? No, you didn’t. The less you talk, the better off you are. Drugs are rampant in this prison, as are other forms of contraband. My goal is to stay as far away from this as possible, and get HOME, so I am like one of those little monkeys in the “see no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil” memes with their eyes closed. There are those with larger than life personalities in here, as there is anywhere else, and my mantra in here has been to “see to understand, not judge”. Being a quiet observer has afforded me the ability to see what the needs are of most of the women in this prison, and I decided to use that knowledge, as well as my education and experience to help my fellow inmates with writing their cop outs, remediation’s and expand their knowledge for post-release from prison. I never ask for compensation (through Commissary), I just as them to share with me the result of my efforts, so I can learn what works and what I can improve on. This has granted me a reputation as someone who “helps” in prison. Didn’t Mr.. Rogers tell us to be the helpers of the world?
Fast forward to yesterday, when someone brought me a “super secret breakfast” from the kitchen. It was a grilled cheese with a fried egg in it. It was GLORIOUS. People who work in the kitchen get perks like that, and I didn’t take the gesture for granted. It was made for me to thank me for helping them with a remediation that got their job back for them when it was taken away erroneously. The gesture validated my efforts in here, being a stealthy advocate to the women I seek to help. Some people are millionaires. And some of us are given a “super secret breakfast” sandwich as a thank you. While money is nice, I am satisfied in prison with the latter.
