I See Chuckleheads

I use various terms to describe the behavior of guys in here.  At the most polite end is the term “chucklehead”.  On any given day I will let loose with a “why are you acting like a chucklehead?” at least three or four times a day.  Normally, it’s over stupid stuff:  removing a piece of fruit from the chow hall; getting a second tray (“beating the deuce”); being caught with a gambling ticket – I utter the term.  This week a record was set for chuckleheads.  And, for five guys at least, it was “bid” altering.

The IT grant students are in the final 3½ months of their one year program.  Classes are completed.  There are only two remaining tasks:   1) to sit for the IT certification exam (being given onsite here – no small feat); and 2) attend sixteen weeks of “Goodwill Wednesday” group sessions.  “Goodwill Wednesday” is the term I coined for the re-entry classes held on Wednesdays (6 hours each week) and conducted by Goodwill.  Goodwill is a partner in the grant program.  They are providing re-entry services when guys are released.  Over the next 16 months, 32 of the students will be released.  How they do “out there” in their first six months will largely determine if they stay out or return for their third, fourth and sometimes fifth sentences.

The classes are important and they are mandatory.  With the exception of four “ringers” (guys added to the program who never came to prison before this trip) the guys in the IT grant program are all “at risk” – they are young (less than 30) with multiple trips to prison, jail, juvenile hall and they are more than likely to reoffend.  They are also extremely impulsive:  Act now and the hell with the consequences.

Three weeks ago the first Wednesday group session was held.  By the first break, a half dozen guys had bailed.  They had “good” reasons to leave:

“It’s boring.”
“I ain’t talkin’ about my f---in feelins.”
“I need to get out to rec.”

The principal came in and reminded the guys at the beginning of week two that the sessions were mandatory.  That led to the general consensus that “we signed up for school, not sharing”.  During the second week’s class, another half dozen walked out.

Now there’s a problem.  One of the biggest issues guys at risk have in successfully maneuvering through “the real world” is playing by the rules.  Almost every day I have to tell one of my guys you can’t put your hands on someone just because they “pissed you off”.  You can’t cuss someone out just because they tell you you have to do something.

So, the principal sends every student a memo.  It said simply “you are required to attend.  If you leave early you will be dismissed from the program and administratively reassigned.”

This past Wednesday, “Goodwill Wednesday”, five guys left early.  They all had the same “valid” reasons as previously detailed.  Things were different this time.  Wednesday afternoon the principal enforced her memo.  Five students – within weeks of taking their certification exam and months of graduating – were moved out of the college dorm and into other buildings.  They will all be moved to other prisons within the next two weeks.

Shock was the emotion exhibited by most guys throughout the building.  Guys kept coming to me saying “I can’t believe she did that…it’s so unfair.”

“Unfair?”  I replied and pointed out she did exactly what her memo said.

No, these guys were chuckleheads.  They knew the penalty beforehand and still walked out.  They threw almost a year’s worth of hard work away.  And, I feel for them.  I worked with these guys, praising and cajoling, building up and tearing down, to get them through.

Will that be the end of chuckleheadedness in the building?  I doubt it.  But, I’m pretty sure no one will miss next Wednesday’s meeting.