When individuals hear that I educate sociology in a maximum-security jail, they typically ask if I’m afraid. Then they assume I enter the jail, share data and rework incarcerated college students. That’s not the story I’m telling. The true transformation isn’t theirs. It’s mine.
For greater than a decade, I’ve facilitated jail applications and labored with people who’ve been impacted by the justice system. For the previous three years, I’ve made the hour-long drive, handed barbed-wire fences, walked by steel detectors and brought the escorted journey to the training wing of a Connecticut state jail to show college-level sociology.
My need to work with individuals in jail honors those that protected me, permitting me to outlive, thrive and provides one thing again. I grew up in Harlem throughout the peak of the crack cocaine epidemic. Public housing was my house. The stench of urine within the elevators, the hunger-inducing aroma of fried meals wafting by the hallways, the ever-present sound of sirens and the concern of dying younger all formed my early years. But, amid these challenges, I additionally skilled love and safety.
Lots of the older guys on my block had been deeply concerned in avenue life. Nevertheless, they noticed one thing in me. They by no means tried to drag me into their actions. As an alternative, they ensured I stayed away. They typically stated, “Nah, you’re sensible. You’re gonna do one thing together with your life.” That sort of safety and love doesn’t seem in statistics or tales concerning the hood, nevertheless it saved me.
I didn’t make it out as a result of I used to be distinctive. I made it as a result of individuals believed in me. They helped me think about a unique life. I carry their love with me once I step into that jail classroom. I educate as a result of I owe a debt—not in a approach that burdens me, however in a approach that permits me to stroll in my objective and see individuals by the identical lens of chance that allowed me to dwell my desires.
Getting into the jail every week requires psychological preparation. Earlier than the lesson begins, I’m going by a number of safety checks. Doorways buzz open and lock behind me. I by no means get snug with the expertise, though I know I’ll go away on the finish of sophistication. I typically describe educating in jail as a beautiful-sad expertise. It’s lovely due to the vitality and connection within the classroom. It’s unhappy as a result of a lot of my college students could by no means see life past the gates.
These males, a few of whom have already served a long time, come prepared to have interaction. We break down theories of race, class, energy, socialization, patriarchy and different associated ideas. We analyze movies, query methods and interrogate assumptions. However what stays with me most are the unscripted moments, like when somebody connects a sociological principle to their very own story and says, “This feels like what occurred to me.”
Some of the unforgettable moments got here throughout a gaggle debate project. I divided the category into small teams and requested them to investigate a textual content utilizing totally different sociological theories. I stepped again and easily noticed. I noticed a gaggle of 15 males serving lengthy sentences, passionately debating whether or not structural pressure principle, social studying principle or a Marxist battle perspective was the perfect lens for evaluation. These weren’t surface-level conversations. They had been sharp, layered and theoretically rigorous. At that second, I informed them, “That is what the world doesn’t get to see.”
Individuals carry assumptions about incarcerated people and what they’re able to. However they don’t see these males breaking down theories, difficult each other and demonstrating mental brilliance. We can not document contained in the jail, so moments like this stay confined to the room. However they’re actual. And so they matter.
One other day, I requested college students to replicate on the final time they cried or heard somebody say, “I really like you.” One scholar responded, “I don’t cry. Crying doesn’t change something.” Per week later, after finishing an project to write down a letter to his youthful self, that very same scholar started studying aloud to his 8-year-old self and broke down in tears. Nobody laughed. Nobody turned away. The opposite males gave him their consideration, encouragement and help. In that room, we created an area the place his vulnerability was met with care, even contained in the partitions of a jail.
These experiences pressured me to confront my objective. I finished seeing myself solely as a professor or administrator. I mirrored on what it means to serve and present up for individuals who’ve been pushed to the perimeters of society. I started to query the boundaries we draw between campus and neighborhood. Universities, particularly these with essentially the most assets, have to be greater than establishments of studying for these fortunate sufficient to be admitted. We’re referred to as to be and do extra.
All through my profession, I’ve labored to make sure my spheres of affect prolong past the sting of campus. I’ve leveraged my place to construct bridges by connecting college and college students to re-entry applications, supporting previously incarcerated students and creating alternatives for others to show inside. Educating in jail has made me extra grounded. As a sociologist, I’m keenly conscious of how little separates my college students’ lives from mine and the way my path may have simply been theirs.
The US leads the world in incarceration, holding greater than 20 p.c of the world’s prisoners regardless of representing lower than 5 p.c of the world’s inhabitants. In response to the Jail Coverage Initiative and the American Civil Liberties Union, many incarcerated individuals come from overpoliced, underresourced communities just like the one I grew up in.
But even with this actuality, some argue that folks in jail don’t deserve training—that providing faculty programs to incarcerated people is a misuse of assets. I’ve heard these arguments, and I reject them. Training in jail isn’t particular remedy. It’s human dignity. It’s recognizing that folks can and do change when given the instruments to replicate, develop and picture a life past a perpetual existence in survival mode.
If increased training is severe about fairness and entry, we can not restrict our lecture rooms to college students with good transcripts and conventional résumés. The lads I educate don’t want saving. They want house to develop, query and contribute. And our establishments want them, as a result of any college that claims to care about justice, resilience or humanity can not ignore the individuals our nation has locked away.
Daily, I’m reminded that none of my accomplishments occurred in isolation. I take into consideration what it means to repay a debt on which you can not put a greenback quantity. I take into consideration honoring those that believed in me earlier than I believed in myself. I’ve stood on the shoulders of people that by no means had the alternatives I did. I carry their funding into each house I enter, particularly these the place others have been forgotten.
One of many classes I’ve held onto is that this: The presents now we have usually are not for us to maintain. They’re meant to be shared. Educating in jail is my approach of honoring that reality.
