Dear Readers,
This is Part II of II. Please log on to www.tncp.net for the last edition.
When we went in the building we were given a gate manifest form and we listed what we were bringing in with us; a note pad, two pens and five sheets of paper. It was 1:13 p.m. and we stayed in the waiting room until they called us to go through the gates. The metal door clanged behind us.
The gate was not as loud as I expected it to be. Vivian Bodiford and I had already taken off our jewelry, belts and anything else that we thought would make the metal detectors go off. We went through the metal detector and had to pass through twice.
We stopped at the window and our items on the manifest form were checked over. I drove so I had to hand over my keys.
The feeling that I had when I handed over my keys was interesting. I can not verbalize it because everything that I was feeling was new.
The guards at the front desk gave us a device with a pin on top and told us that if we had a problem to pull the pin and a guard would be there immediately. It clipped on my waistband like a pager. I wondered what kind of problems could we possibly have. I reminded myself that it is just a precaution.
We were escorted to the area where we were speaking. We walked past the yard. It was strange to see men caged up. It was strange to see a vegetable garden. It was strange to be escorted. Why did I feel like I was locked up too? I looked over at Ms. Bodiford trying to gauge her emotional mindset and she just smiled. I thought I am with the perfect person. She was so calm. There was no interaction, no obnoxious staring because we were women and no verbal communication. We nodded our heads at some who nodded theirs and kept it moving.
I was finally at the prison. I know that all prisons are not like Gus Harrison but I was sure pleased that our first visit was in Adrian.
When we arrived in the building we went to a room and the inmates sat quietly. George Betts-Bey is the President of the National Lifers of America and he introduced me. I wanted to stand up because that is what I usually do but I sat down promptly and re-introduced myself and told them about the work I was doing with The New Citizens Press Community Action Network (TNCP CAN) and the newspaper. I shared my life experiences with them because I felt as though they needed to know that none of us are perfect. I know that I could have been in the wrong place at the wrong time. I just thank God for giving me some common sense, especially when it was regarding drugs. Drugs were not for me and neither were dealers. I did not care how much money you had. I did not want to die. In New York City, it was either addict, dealer or dead. I saw this play out so many times.
Ms. Bodiford was observing the nearly 50 men that sat before us. They were so quiet. It was racially mixed, which surprised me as well. I was disappointed that there were so many men in jail. I was more disappointed at some of the men who are not. The ones who do not engage with the community. I have never had a captive audience of males.
Ms. Bodiford spoke about her experience with the death of her son, James “Jillz” Jones, III. She was so composed while talking. I was so appreciative.
We did understand that the men did some pretty horrible acts. When you are in a room and you realize that it is overwhelming at times. You wonder what they did to get to the place where someone is telling you what to do every single day.
The first one to stand up to speak was James Adrian. He is 34-years-old and serving a life sentence for felony murder. He was convicted in Washtenaw County in 1996 when he was just 17-years-old.
James said being in jail gives you a lot of time to think. He added that through his poetry and in relating his life story tries “to give back to the society he helped destroy” when younger.
Through his “gift” of poetry he tries to inspire people to do better and uses his life as an example of what happens when a person makes “stupid choices” in life. He does believe in second chances and this is the second year he has submitted his poetry to the prison poetry project.
When asked what he missed the most he said taking a bath and opening a refrigerator door.
We went over our time and I promised myself that TNCP CAN would return with more families.
Ms. Bodiford wrote me in an email after the visit and said:
“I had a chance to share with them how the Lord had instructed me to forgive my son’s murderer before I even knew who he was, and by God’s grace I was able to. The prisoners were very appreciative that I shared my story with them as victim of crime. Some of the prisoners told us that they had never had the opportunity to hear a victim tell of how the crime impacted them. They expressed thanks and some of the prisoners personally told me, “I am sorry for your loss.” When they found out about my mission to encourage youth by working in different programs, the President of the NLA advised that it would be good if I would be on the board for their juvenile program. We will have to see about that one.”
It was indeed an experience of a lifetime.
Love people,
Rina Risper
Part I was in the last edition: October 7 – October 20, 2012.
This was printed in the October 21, 2012 – November 3, 2012 Edition
