Heading Blindly Into Traffic

GED graduation will be held in a few weeks and, as I’ve done in the past, I’m helping the student speaker with his remarks. I’m building it around a joke I read recently. A blind man was seen on a busy street being led by his guide dog. Without warning, the dog pulled the man into the street dragging him across the thoroughfare as brakes slammed, horns sounded, and drivers careened left and right to avoid striking the man and his dog.

            Miraculously, the man made it safely to the far side where a crowd of pedestrians who had witnessed his death defying stroll had gathered. The blind man pulled a cookie out of his pocket and held it out for his dog.

            One of the pedestrians said, “Why are you rewarding your dog? He nearly got you killed!”

            The blind man replied, “To find out where his head is so I can kick him in the ass!”

            That joke made a lot of sense to me. Most of the men in this facility, myself included, have gone through life blindly taking our lead from a host of guides. And, we get drug through reckless, self-destructive, and sometimes dangerous circumstances. The consequences of our actions make us want to kick someone’s ass. Unfortunately, we really only have ourselves to blame.

            I think a good deal about the cycle of incarceration. Most of the men in this re-entry facility are not new to “the system,” the short-hand name for police, courts, and prison. In my building there are less than fifteen men out of the 92 who can say, “This is my first extended stay.” Three of those fifteen have been locked up over twenty years. Prison, it seems, is a wayside for most, not a defining moment. You behave in a certain way, get arrested, and they send you back to prison. The officers stay the same. It’s like homecoming: “Yo, look whose back!” And then the conversations start. You know, the ones where the guy tells you how great he was running his “hustle” on the street, but someone ratted him out. His lawyer – a buddy of the Commonwealth Attorney – got paid off to throw the case.

            The conversation suddenly changes direction. “You know, I ain’t comin’ back again.” Great words except without genuine change they are hollow. One out of three released in the first year gets locked back up; two out of three find their way back in within three years. The results are dismal, like being blind and trying to cross a busy street.

            Is it hopeless? Some days I think it is. A couple of examples: Thursday a guy in the neighboring building saw the college intern (a petite, young student at the local college) working with a building counselor in the eastside chow hall. After saying hello to her, he walks five or six steps away then suddenly drops his pants and exposes himself. Officers rush in and take him to the “hole.” All the while, we continue to eat our lunch.

            The young lady is, as expected, shocked and thrown off stride, some genius at the table next to me blurts out, “What does she expect, coming to work in a prison?” (As if exposing oneself is ok in here.)

            The same day, a brawl breaks out in “3” building.  Six guys are locked up for fighting. Now fights happen all the time. Except, “3” building houses the re-entry program. To live there, you have to be within eight months of release. So, guys who can taste freedom still find it necessary to fight.

            Then, there was the raid in “2” building which led to the recovery of a baggie full of sleeping pills. The guy caught in that shake down was one of my GED students. He’s also currently in the “hole.” (Now you understand why there are twenty-four solitary confinement cells!) All his earned good time will be taken meaning instead of getting out in twenty-two months it’s now closer to thirty months.

            And then there is the reality of release. Thursday, the U.S. Department of Labor released its April unemployment information. In a very positive development, the national unemployment rate fell to 7.5%. The jobs report indicated that since the recession began, over two million jobs have been created for college graduates (and some college attendance). The national rate of unemployment for that category is 3.9%. High school graduates don’t fair nearly as well (7.4%).

            Here’s the rub: Education and stable employment are the primary determiners in recidivism rates for released prisoners. Virginia currently provides no money for prison college programs. Absent receipt of a grant, our college program will fold. That means thirty men currently working on the associates degrees will have no educational program available while they complete their sentences. That means that forty men every nine months will be unable to earn thirty plus college credits and certification in IT work. That’s a whole lot of reasons to feel hopeless.

            But, as the joke reminds us, the blind man somehow found his way safely across the road. No state-mandated re-entry program will break the cycle of recidivism. Government does not do redemption and rehabilitation very well. But men will succeed, in spite of the odds. I believe it and I’ve witnessed it. People can change, “I once was blind, but now I see.” At some point, some man – or woman – behind bars will decide that there is more to them, and their life, than this place. Their eyes open and they realize they’ve been blindly, impulsively following the wrong dog into traffic. Government – the Department of Corrections, the Governor, and the General Assembly – can be a positive force and help prepare the soon to be released for life on the outside – or they can continue to do the same things that don’t work and watch more and more released return to prison wanting to kick someone in the ass for running them blindly into traffic.