My Time in Prison:
Or, what is Really Going on Behind Those Bars?
The first time I told someone I was going to prison, they laughed at me. Once I told them what exactly I was going to do in prison, they started questioning me, wasn’t I scared, what were they going to do to me, and mainly they all warned me not to fall in love with an inmate. Once a week, since the starting of the semester, I’ve been going to Cayuga Correctional Facility to tutor a class on the GED. The prison is minimum-security, so the inmates are in there for a variety of reasons, from rape to robbery to murder. Needless to say, without even taking into account all the questions people had asked me about this, I was nervous.
During my orientation last semester, the guards and the head of the education department repeatedly warned us of what not to do. No revealing any personal details, no addressing anyone by nicknames, no revealing our names. All the while continually telling us of things we should do, like make them respect us, not be afraid of them, and set up a hierarchy in the classroom. Taking into account all of these thoughts, I hesitatingly got dressed for my first class, I wore some pretty sexy high rise slacks, with a sweater, so that no part of my body was visible. As I got into the car with my fellow volunteers we all talked about how nervous we were, and kind of made up our game plan on the drive.
Cayuga Correctional Facility looks a lot like a college campus if you ignore the barbed wire and guards. I started picturing myself just teaching college students, and surprisingly enough, that’s how the inmates acted, but better. The inmates were engaged, continually asked questions, were playful, and even told us how we could be better. The first time I left the prison, I remember feeling this high, of having helped someone, and possibly even given them a second chance.
As I write these words, I’ve only been going to the prison for a little more than a month, but already I find myself looking forward to these weekly trips not only because I like teaching, but also because I like the inmates. I feel extremely lucky having been able to participate in the Cornell Prison Education Program (or CPEP) and strongly suggest anyone who has the chance to, to do so. If only so that one day, an inmate can turn in an essay talking about how they want to be an editor, and how all they read are books about editing, or have another one write an essay about architecture, but continually misspell the word. Though I might not be able to give them their dream, I surely can help them learn how to spell.
