Back To The Future?

A new inmate clerk was assigned to my library a few weeks back.  When he first walked in, I felt a moment of fear.  He looked a bit scary to me, almost like he might not want to be there.  I asked him, "Do you want to work here?"  He said that he was fine with the job.  Okay!  Let's get to it.  I introduced him to the senior clerk, who is actually about 20 plus years YOUNGER.  The new clerk informed me that he had NEVER touched a computer, having "been down" for more than 25 years.   Alrighty!  A few days later, he was repairing some books.  I handed him a glue stick.   He said, "What's this?"  My eyes got big, and then I remembered that he had been down for a long time.  I told him, "A glue stick."  He said, "Oh, okay," and continued working using the glue stick seemingly with ease.  A few days later, he again was using the glue stick.  About half an hour later, I heard him exclaim, "Wow, that's cool!"  I looked up and he was looking at me incredulously, then said, "I didn't know it did that!"  He had discovered that the bottom of the glue stick turned and the glue moved upwards.  He then told me that he had been dipping his finger into the glue and then to the books to make the repairs.  I must have looked as crazy as he did, because we both burst out laughing hysterically.  He looks much less scary when he laughs, by the way.  And he has proven already to be a hard worker and fast learner.  One can't judge a book by the cover, right?  Anyway, this experience iwth the glue stick has reminded me of the many times I've wondered what my ancestors would think should they come visit for an hour or two and see all the changes since their life. 

Who Is He?

Yesterday, inmate John Smith* came to the library.  He presented legal documents and requested copies.  I looked at the documents and noted that the name on them was David Brown*.  I said to him, "Who is David Brown?"  He replied that it was him.  I then asked him, "Who is John Smith?"  He replied that he, too, was John Smith.  I expressed confusion.  He said that when he was arrested he was going by John Smith but he was really David Brown.  I asked him if anyone else knew that, and he said that custody knew.  So I called his building and asked one of my favorite officers what she knew about John Smith and David Brown being one and the same.  She only knew him by John Smith.  I then called the program office and asked the sergeant what he knew about this mysterious inmate.   He input the inmate's CDCR number into his computer to check for any aliases.  None.  Not a one.  California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation only knows him as John Smith.  I then told the inmate that I could not copy the documents as they had the wrong name on it.  He needed to prove he was David Brown and not John Smith.   He asked me how he could do that . . . hmmmm . . . the truth always works,  I thought but didn't say.   He was polite and didn't blame me for his predicament, which was unusual for an inmate.  As he was leaving the library, I told him that when he figured out who he was to let me know and perhaps his documents could be copied.  He said that he knew who he was, but didn't seem to want o share that with me at that time.  Are John Smith and David Brown one and the same?  Who really knows besides John Smith, David Brown and his/their mother(s).

*name changed to protect the guilty

Pushups!!!

Wednesday, an inmate suggested that when an inmate uses that naughty F word, he should be made to do push-ups.  Hmmmmm . . . great idea!  So the very next morning, an inmate was insructed to do 10 push-ups.  He said, "Really?!?!"  I said, "REALLY!"   Ten push-ups it was.  No one else that day had to do push-ups.  Yesterday, I was on another yard where the inmates are all on lock down so they were escorted over and remained in waist restraints.  The morning group was fine.  The afternoon group . . . sheesh guys!!!  I couldn't really make them do them on the floor so I made them do them at the counter.  One guy thought I couldn't count or maybe wasn't paying attention.  When he finished, I looked at him and said, "Three more!"  His eyes were incredulous, and he went back to the counter and did three more.  I did have one scrawny inmate say to me that it was unconstitutional, cruel and unusual punishment.  "Perhaps if you exercised more push-ups would be easy and not a punishment."  He shut up. 

Beauty Advice??

One of the yards I work on is the "Sensitive Needs Yard."  It's comprised of gang dropouts, gays, wanna-be girls, and other unmentionables.  Just before Christmas I went to see my miracle worker (hairstylist).  My yucky gray hair with a variety of home-coloring attempts at beauty was transformed into a cute style with blond and gold highlights over a dark background.  Yesterday an inmate told me, "Ms. D, that hair color doesn't look good."  "Oh really," I said.  He said, "Yeah, you should go for auburn."  "Really?" (Said with my cute little sarcastic tone.) "And you need to use Head and Shoulders."  "Really, do I have dandruff?"  "No, but you have split ends and Head and Shoulders works best for split ends."  He then went on to say he worked in the beauty industry on the streets.  I just wrinkled my brow at him and walked away.  But I have to say that I am intrigued about adding auburn to my hair and even trying Head and Shoulders.  What do you all think?

Firetruck!

I have a rule in my library that if it starts with F and ends in U C K, the only acceptable word is Firetruck.  I have this printed on bright yellow paper and posted in several spots in the library.   It amazes the inmates that I may appear to not be listening and that word pops out of their mouth directly to my ears.  I tell them I have "mom ears."  The regulars have been heard to say, "Firetruck!" on more than one occasion.  I even have some of the officers say it when I'm within hearing distance.  Today I noticed that an inmate had F U C K tattooed on his knuckles.  I told him that he knew that particular word was not allowed in the library, and he would have to cut off his fingers before he came back again.  I don't think he believed me!  LOLOLOL! 

Not Your Fairy Godmother

Today an inmate, a "frequent flyer," needed copies, envelopes, etc.  He completed the necessary paperwork to have the money deducted from his trust account.  Then he asked me to call and find out if he had money on his books.  As it turned out, he did.  He said that he had sent a request to have the money sent to family or friend, and expressed dismay that it hadn't.  Then, without actually asking me, he hinted at my holding the trust withdrawals until that money had been sent.  I just looked at him.  He said, "Can't you grant my wish?"  I looked at him and said, "I am not your fairy godmother."  He tried again later, and again I said, "I am not your fairy godmother."  Silly inmate!!! 

Converations With Inmates

Because the yard I worked on today is on lock down, all inmates had to be escorted, one on one, to and from the library.  This afternoon I was left with one very young inmate, about 22 or 23, while the rest of the group was escorted back to their buildings and one of the officers could return for him.  He's working on his case, and has been to the library every week for a few weeks.  He is always very respectful and laughs at my jokes (or attempts at jokes). 

He has been in prison since he was 18.  He has tattoos on his head, neck, hands and who knows were else (who wants to know).  I asked him if it had hurt when he received the tattoos on his head.  He told me they didn't, but that those on his neck did.  He also expressed regret at ever having gotten them, and wished they could be removed because he knew that people looked at him differently.  We had a brief discussion about how some people respond to being served their dinner at a restaurant by someone with tattoos on their neck and knuckles.

I asked him if he'd be paroling anytime soon, and he said only if he could get another chance in court.  He said that the District Attorney didn't want him back on the street.  I told him that the "people" probably didn't want him back on the street either.  He replied that I was probably right, and then said that he just got caught up in the wrong crowd.  I replied, "Everyone thinks they got caught up in the wrong crowd.  If that's so, then who really is the 'wrong crowd'?"  He was quiet for a minute and then said, "I guess I should be honest and say that I was both.  I got caught up in the wrong crowd, but I was also the wrong crowd." Honest insight from a very young inmate.  It takes many others a lot longer to have such insight. 

It makes my mother's heart sad at times when I meet these young men who have already thrown their lives away by the choices they make.  Some of them really have the potential to be productive citizens.  But too many times, it's too late for them.