When folks 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 information and rework incarcerated college students. That’s not the story I’m telling. The actual transformation isn’t theirs. It’s mine.
For greater than a decade, I’ve facilitated jail packages 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 way of metallic 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 folks 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 way of 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 have 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 mentioned, “Nah, you’re good. You’re gonna do one thing along with your life.” That sort of safety and love doesn’t seem in statistics or tales in regards to the hood, however 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 folks believed in me. They helped me think about a unique life. I carry their love with me after 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 enables me to stroll in my goal and see folks by way of the identical lens of risk that allowed me to reside my desires.
Getting into the jail every week requires psychological preparation. Earlier than the lesson begins, I’m going by way of a number of safety checks. Doorways buzz open and lock behind me. I by no means get comfy with the expertise, though I know I’ll go away on the finish of sophistication. I typically describe instructing in jail as a beautiful-sad expertise. It’s stunning due to the vitality and connection within the classroom. It’s unhappy as a result of lots of my college students might by no means see life past the gates.
These males, a few of whom have already served many years, come prepared to interact. We break down theories of race, class, energy, socialization, patriarchy and different associated ideas. We analyze movies, query techniques 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 seems like what occurred to me.”
Some of the unforgettable moments got here throughout a bunch debate task. 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 bunch of 15 males serving lengthy sentences, passionately debating whether or not structural pressure principle, social studying principle or a Marxist battle perspective was the very best lens for evaluation. These weren’t surface-level conversations. They have been sharp, layered and theoretically rigorous. At that second, I instructed them, “That is what the world doesn’t get to see.”
Folks 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. They usually matter.
One other day, I requested college students to replicate on the final time they cried or heard somebody say, “I like you.” One pupil responded, “I don’t cry. Crying doesn’t change something.” Every week later, after finishing an task to write down a letter to his youthful self, that very same pupil 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 assist. 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 goal. 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 sides 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 known as to be and do extra.
All through my profession, I’ve labored to make sure my spheres of affect lengthen past the sting of campus. I’ve leveraged my place to construct bridges by connecting college and college students to re-entry packages, supporting previously incarcerated students and creating alternatives for others to show inside. Instructing 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 might 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 line with the Jail Coverage Initiative and the American Civil Liberties Union, many incarcerated folks come from overpoliced, underresourced communities just like the one I grew up in.
But even with this actuality, some argue that individuals 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 individuals can and do change when given the instruments to replicate, develop and picture a life past a perpetual existence in survival mode.
If larger 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 area 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 folks our nation has locked away.
Day by day, 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’t 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 area I enter, particularly these the place others have been forgotten.
One of many classes I’ve held onto is that this: The presents we’ve got are usually not for us to maintain. They’re meant to be shared. Instructing in jail is my approach of honoring that fact.
