I leave it open when tell people I spent 15 years in prison, I find a bit of humor in the reaction of the people that want to waste time, to chit chat and talk about nothing, this is an exit out of the base, surface conversations that monopolize most of them. They seldom ask for clarification on which side of the door, it’s always under the perception of the criminal. I don’t think that’s inherently making a judgement that all strangers are to be met at arm’s length, but it says something about people. Maybe it’s me, maybe if I spoke more eloquently, more polished or with less cuss words people would think differently. Whatever it is I realized today that people think since you do not sleep in a prison that it somehow makes the dilemma of being locked in a cage with hundreds of other animals less than what it is. Insanity. Controlled chaos. There is an illusion of control that you must have simply to walk through the door every day. The numbers, as they say, don’t lie. To think that the choice to leave work is not your own is a humbling moment. You don’t know that at first, you are willfully oblivious to the world that you walked into, you can’t know. Nothing can prepare you for it. There are no movies that show the perspective of the OTHER side of the door. All people know is they are corrupt, dishonest, vile creatures that abuse their “power.” That is the depiction that we all know of the indifferent and harden hearted individual who is tasked with staying human in an inhuman world.
Humans are not meant to be housed like that. The life of a low-level criminal is always romanticized. People love to hear about a slick hustler, a criminal genius who stays a few steps ahead of the overly medicated, drunken police, the cold-blooded killer. People love this shit, they eat it up. Few see what happens when they go away. Fewer still know that most are not them. They are sons, fathers, brothers and uncles. At first, family and friends will support them, some will even take time from their life and drive an hour maybe a little more to visit, others will put money on the books to let them know they are loved, think in the way some people show their love by showering their child with gifts. Self-serving and transparent, but never not spent. Then its just you, with the other animals. Everyone is sick, everyone is fucked, and everyone shows up for work. You see people, you see their patterns, their behaviors, their routines. Within the group and as individuals, you see why someone goes here and not there.
I have zero answers on how to improve it. I don’t know that you can, what I do know is I met some amazing people in that world. Staff and incarcerated alike that I hope are doing well. I hope some got out.
I started writing this at the beginning of the week with all sorts of exciting directions I wanted to explore.
I went to Seattle, and it all went to shit. I was the third wheel on a date with my oldest son and wife. I needed to fall back in love with my life, this island gets small and the noise loud. I love you Si.
