Hold On For One More Day

QUESTION:   Is it dangerous to teach on the Inside?

From the Author...

I have written and published several non-fiction short stories and, most recently, a blog post about this subject. 

*  Are you afraid to be inside the prisons teaching convicted felons?

*   Is it dangerous to teach on the inside?  

*  Was I scared to go inside the Prison- on that first day? 

Yes, of course, I was afraid. Am I still frightened after seven years of teaching inside? Yes, when you let down your guard, stop being scared, and become comfortable, that is when bad things happen.

*****

From recent State of Ohio headlines...

* "XXX, a prison teacher, was stabbed to death at an Ohio Correctional Facility while supervising an inmate who had been sentenced to life in prison."

* "A murderer and arsonist serving a life term in prison followed a teacher into a woman's bathroom and slashed her throat Thursday, killing her for no apparent reason, prison officials said. The woman, XXX, was a teacher at an Ohio Correctional Facility for six years."

* "Serious assaults on teaching staff members working in the Ohio prison system are on the rise during the past five years, according to records from Ohio Department of Rehabilitation and Correction."

*****

The first thing I ever wrote about state prisons was a poem. For my entire life, I have loved poetry—all types of poetry. However, the only poetry I had ever attempted to write was a few love verses for my wife (which will never see the light of day). The best thing I can say about them is that they were from the heart.

I wrote my first prison poem in 2019, overwhelmed with feelings and emotions. I wrote the poem in a matter of minutes. It literally burned inside me, aching to get out. When I was finished, I felt better. But- I had no idea if it was any good or not. I thought to myself,- "What the hell can it hurt!"- and sent a copy to five or six of my favorite poetry journals.

After I had recovered from the shock that someone liked my creation and wanted to pay me for it, I received offers from three other art journals, asking if it was still available and offering more money. 

The first art journal to respond was the Taj Mahal. They published it under (Hold On - VOL. 18 NUMBER 1 JUNE 2019 (35TH ISSUE Taj Mahal). OMG, I couldn't believe it! Were they serious? 

Rewrites of this free-verse poem have been published over a dozen times in six different languages. I still own the rights to this poem and decided to include it with Different Prisons.

The feelings and stress the prisoners feel are apparent every moment of every day. Half of the prison staff and administration I work and talk with almost daily sincerely believe their role is to punish felons for their offenses to society. Meanwhile, the other half (just as sincerely) believe their role is to rehabilitate these offenders.

I am reminded of a boat with rowers on both sides. One side is rowing in what they believe is the best direction for their ship, while the other side is rowing just as eagerly in a different direction. As a result, the boat is going nowhere; it is in the middle of the ocean spinning in tight little circles, unable to change course.

As an American society, we must decide if prisons exist to rehabilitate or punish. It cannot do both...

Hold On

I pierce the gates; 

I see the sun rising on walls, fences, and dying dreams.

I know these men now, 

And I can perceive this place clearly, 

Through eyes wide open.

The effects of the broken long arm of the law suffocate this place.

I know these men now and can attend to their cry,

"How long must I abide in this place?"

And I respond to them calmly, declaring,

"Hold on, nothing lasts forever!"

As I tread through the Yard, 

A maze of anger, waste, and deceptive schemes.

I know these men now and can attend to their cry,

"I am so alone; I do not feel like myself?"

And I respond to them calmly, declaring,

"Hold on; There is still much good in this world!"

It constantly feels cold in this place.

It permanently smells of piss and dead passions.

I know these men now and attend to their cry,

"Can I watch it all burn?"

And I respond to them calmly, declaring,

"Hold on, do not surrender; Hope is eternal!"

I leave this place at the end of my brief day, 

While others must remain bound.

I know these men now; 

I attend the untold places in my heart- 

Where sincerity persists.

My dread, all is only a shell of hollow platitudes,

"Tomorrow, it will start over again?"

And I respond to myself, calmly declaring,

"Hold on, for one more day!"

END

Next: The next episode is a short story about my first day of teaching on the inside...