Prison Mondays

I used to have an office with a desk that overlooked some trees, where I would sit at my computer and do legal work.  This semester, I sometimes think my office is a corner in a prison hallway next to a trash can.  I stand there while an inmate sits on the lid of the trash can, telling me what is on her heart.

Prison is loud and chaotic.  The dorms where I work as an intern are L-shaped, with open shared rooms down one hall and a day room on the other hall.  The rooms each have four sets of bunk beds and the lights never completely turn off.  It is nearly impossible to find a place for private conversation.

Sometimes I sit in the day room, talking with women or waiting for them to come to me.  Other times, I sidle up to a woman as she is sitting on the trash can, one of the quieter places in the dorm.  I ask if she wants to talk or if she would rather be left alone.  The other chaplain interns and I have found that the women are more likely to talk with us if we stand next to them instead of in front of them.

The women tell me about their children and their grandchildren (the majority are mothers).  They worry about sick family members and pray for the day that they will be able to return home.  Once I stood next to a woman whose eyes filled with tears as she told me that she had been driving drunk and the passenger in her car was killed in an accident.  "Will his family ever forgive me?" she asked.  "Will the pain ever go away?"

It's not all hard and heavy.  The women and I laugh together and share stories.  They tell me about the day-to-day frustrations of being in prison, and I agree that it must be hard.  They ask me questions about esoteric Bible verses (Jude 1:9, anyone?) and show me pictures of their families.

The women want to know what I can do for them.  Can I get them a bar of soap, deliver a letter, help them get into a class?  I tell them that I am there to listen.  We can talk about God if they want, or we can pray together, but mostly I am just there to be with them.  Some days, that's enough.