From The Soul

From the author...

Folks who know me know I am reluctant to brag about myself or blow my own horn. I don't believe in talking the talk.

I believe in walking the walk. I set the example I want to be followed and demonstrate the behaviors I want to be modeled after. So, to my surprise, I opened this episode with a braggadocios statement. 

I have spent most of my life leading young men, including soldiers, urban city children, students, Boy Scouts, convicts, and at-risk youths. I am very, very good at this, and I am told I have a gift for it.

There . . . this is the first and last bragging you will hear from me in this novella. (well, maybe)

The big question(s):

(1   Why do you go inside prisons to teach convicted felons, Tom?

(2   Why do you write poems and short stories about your experiences?

(3   Did all the incidents you write about really happen, or are you exaggerating for effect?

Fair enough. Unfortunately, there are no short answers to these complex questions. My answers are written in the pages of this novel, Different Prisons. 

I was raised in a military family. Growing up, I was called a wild kid—always getting into trouble and fighting. Later, I joined the U.S. Army. As a result, I have traveled, worked, or lived in many countries and been exposed to many peoples and cultures. 

The Army helped me find my way back home. Find my center, direction, and purpose. Every word you will read here is truth—nothing except for the names of the felons has been changed.

Without my time in the Army, I would have probably ended badly, possibly in the prison system. I hope you decide to join me on this journey.

*****

Dog and Pony Show . . .

Seven years ago, in an effort to market the College Prison Program, I was asked to give a series of presentations inside prisons to the general population (Gen-Pop). The exhibition was called From the Soul.

Gen-Pop is very different from my usual incarcerated students. My students are in the classroom because they choose to be there. They want to attend college to better themselves. Compared to Gen-Pop, my students were the proverbial gravy train.

Gen-Pop is a tough crowd. Gen-Pop includes the worst of the worst. It is not for the weak of heart.

This dog and pony show was scheduled for two hours. I was the main (and only) speaker, presenting in front of 800 felons, including all the scars, warts, and tattoos.

The topics to discuss were bias, prejudice, and discrimination. The audience comprised convicted felons and two Correction Officers (C.O.s). One C.O. was assigned to the front door and one to the back. Okay, no problem, easy-peasy, I got this.

I was holding a set of index cards titled "assumptions," "making judgments," "another perspective," "impacts on communication," etc. My starter card, my hook, was titled "The History of the Term Pigeon-Hole."

I remember I felt passionate about the topic. When I first entered the combination church, clubhouse, and meeting place, it was half full, and I was pacing nervously. By the time I had finished, I had a full house and felt elated. 

After I had finished speaking, it was Q&A time. The first inmate to raise his hand was the epitome of a Hollywood felon, with scars, tattoos, and a permanent angry scowl. Seven years later, I remember his question/statement verbatim.

He stated, "I wasn't planning on attending this event." He paused and looked thoughtful as he considered his next words: "When I walked by the door and peeked in, I saw this old white guy standing up front." He looked me straight in the eyes. "No offense."

I nodded back at him, "None, taken."

"Well... I thought to myself, a show called From the Soul. What the hell does an old white guy know about soul?" He paused for a second time. "I started listening in the doorway and decided to sit down for just a few minutes. I eventually ended up staying for the entire two-hour presentation. I have to say, I'm glad I stayed. I learned a lot."

He stopped speaking, pointing to me, "That man made me rethink some things. Thank you... sir." He abruptly sat down.

Two semesters later, the same felon (let's call him Mr. Smith) was sitting in the back row of my Introduction to Management class. He smiled at me, "Do you remember me, sir?"

I nodded yes. "Sure do, Mr. Smith. Glad to have you on board."

He smiled again and said, "Well, after listening to you at that From the Soul thing, I decided to give college a shot."

I smiled back and said, "I'm glad we were able to spark your interest, Mr. Smith."

For the record, Mr. Smith graduated with honors. His fierce exterior contained an even fiercer mind. Why would I go inside a prison and teach felons? 

Mr. Smith and hundreds of others just like him are one reason...

END