Pitfalls

Jim started the discussion today by asking what a soon-to-be-paroled inmate was doing to keep from re offending or getting a violation. "I am just following my plan," he said. He has laid out his plan: AA, NA, avoiding friends and family who are using, obeying the rules and "just plodding ahead." Jim said that was a 'pat' answer. Somehow, we moved into what upsets us, and he mentioned his son. The conversation moved from the inmate to Jim. The group used all of our tools to help him go through the steps to analyze why he continued to enable his son's immaturity. (I won't go into details except that he had mentioned to me that his son got a parking ticket while driving Jim's car.) We talked at length with him, and he even got a little uncomfortable, which he has told me is a sign of new territory. One of the things Jim said was that he knows where his pitfalls are, but with his son, he steps into them anyway. That resonated with me. I suppose Jim and I are not alone; we all mostly know where our pitfalls are. At any rate, Jim got some good advice from one of the men, to decide within himself to give his son the financial help he asks for BEFORE he asks. Then it is a gift, and the anger, guilt and resentment don't attach. (Good advice, but hard to execute.) We eventually got back to the inmate in question, but he stayed with his stolid answers. In all, it was a solid meeting.

We look forward to the return of "Doc" who is in cubicle detention, leaving only for meals and worship for taking a swing at a dorm-mate's lamp which was keeping him awake. He could have gone to the box, but since he had been provoked, and since he hit the lamp, not the offensive inmate, he stayed out. We also hope to see another man who had to take an ACT course, which prevents him from coming to our group.

Outside in the yard, there is a beautiful perfectly formed conical maple tree. As we talked, I could see a group of 5 men gather under the tree, talking animatedly. It was an idyllic summer scene, save for the razor wire I was looking through. After the meeting I said as much to one of the men. He looked at me and said, "After a while, you stop seeing the razor wire and start seeing the summer."

Why is it so hard?

It took me 40 years to come to the point of wanting to visit and work with prisoners enough to actually do it. During that time, there were plenty of opportunities, albeit no one invited me. What was my hesitation? What blocked me from the call? Part of it was that I was full of my own problems. But I still am plagued by those issues. Part was the attitude of, "Let someone else do it." Part was the problem of out of sight out of mind. And then there was the inertia; maybe if I waited long enough there wouldn't be any need to do it. When I started, it was one invitation that did it, but it was also that I had become the person who could accept that invitation. Now that I am indeed making visits to the jails and the prisons, now that I am lending strength to families as the visit, and acting as a sounding post for those released to parole or probation, I can't understand what took me so long. I have met some wonderful volunteers, some who have been making weekly visits for as much as 40 years, some who make one visit a month. I have met some fascinating people in the system, too.

As we were discussing the A.A. principle that a person will not begin to change until their situation becomes too painful to NOT change, one of the inmates at Groveland said, "When I first was sentenced, I spent 10 years as the same person I had been when I committed my crime. I went to church and took all the courses they required because I knew it would go into my Parole file. In the yard I was the guy nobody messed with. And I went to "the Box" several times. But I didn't start to change inside until I got to the point that it was too much work to stay the biggest and baddest guy in the barracks. Something had to change. And it wasn't gonna be the prison system. That left it up to me." We went on to talk about how the "lifers" watch the newcomers, some "lifers" step forward to help them, others to recruit them into the prison lifestyle. Others still stand off and let it be. I began to think not only of that microcosm, but also about my own behaviors and attitudes. Don't we "lifers" fall into those three categories? Some of us are involved in the culture in which we find ourselves; we work, we strive to succeed and we teach others, our children and those we influence how to do the same. Some of us are rescuer types, striving to make the world a better place as we decide better, heroes or lawmen. Others are content to stand off to the side, allowing others the freedom to act, ready to guide if asked, but not volunteering.

Community

I wonder about how it feels to be cut off from your usual circle. The fence not only keeps the prisoner in, but slices across the relationships he has had his entire life. Friday a prisoner told me: My family told me not to bother them or expect anything from them during prison or after. How did that hit him? How did it effect his actions? I asked them how they keep from becoming negative and pessimistic. They all answered about using the time in prison to work on themselves, except for him. He talked about drifting, about wondering what was to become of him. He has turned to religion, but has become a follower of a charismatic preacher, who does not ask questions but gives answers.

I think that that is what Prison Ministry is starting to become for me, a forum to ask questions and sincerely and openly listen to the answers; to reflect the answers back and to reflect on them. And that is also beginning to be my reward, as well. In asking the questions, I open my self to be asked. In listening to the answers, I am given other ears to listen. And in reflecting, I see the waves and peeled silver of the mirror which is myself that I hold up to them.