The reason I waited to post about my first tutoring session was because so much of it was hazy due to my own nervousness. I also wanted to compare it to my second time before I made too many assumptions before properly analyzing my surroundings.
I barely remember the car ride, what we talked about, signing in, or going through most of the preliminary procedure. My mind came into focus when I was walking through the yard and heard the hooting and hollering coming from the barred windows looking into the yard. They were shouting, laughing, and whistling. I just looked straight and followed the guard to the classrooms.
Inside we were ushered into a room that was set up like a high school class but with surrounding windows so the guards can look in. Dave has us sign some papers I forget for what now. But before I knew it they were walking it and I tried to keep a straight face. Yes I was scared but I told myself that I DO believe in second chances and judging for myself. Everyone sat down and tutors and inmates were quiet.
Dave broke the silence and I began to absorb his actions, his words and feel the calm he projected. We read a poem called The Colonel by Carolyn Forche. Feel free to read it for yourself here: http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-colonel/
We were told at orientation that the material we bring in has to be carefully chosen because certain subjects could ignite violent arguments, and sensitive subject matter might not go over too well. The poem Dave chose was perfect. It was rich with images, and themes of violent dictators and oppressed peoples. There wasn't much conversation because it was the first day but nobody threw rotten tomatoes so I guess it was a success. Someone did say that the Colonel sounded like an asshole and he was mean. Which I think was a great reading into his oppressive and brutal nature.
The group of tutors to inmates was about even and we started helping them. Most needed help in math and I worked with one older man (R). He seemed respectful, and he certainly wasn't unintelligent. He could compute numbers in his mind a lot quicker than I could and he told me he liked reading. We didn't get into personal questions like why are you here, how long, etc. It is highly discouraged and honestly I didn't need to know. We worked on adding and subtracting fractions, word problems (which he had the most trouble with) and laughed over silly mistakes made by both of us. Time went by much too quickly. Before we knew it the prisoners were being called back and we had to leave.
On our way out we had to walk back through the yard but this time it was filled with prisoners. They were playing basketball, lifting weights, talking on the phones and looking at us. I felt secure because we were all together. I also felt secure because many of the inmates expressed their gratitude and told us they appreciated us coming out here. They also said that they would never let anything happen to any of us.
As we left I told Dave that I wasn't nervous anymore.
My second tutoring session went very similarly. This time I was much more aware of my surroundings signing in, getting stamped, following the guard across the yard with the shouting, and arriving at the classroom. The only thing I was nervous for now was leading the class discussion with the two pieces of poetry I brought. I chose William Butler Yeats When You Are Old http://www.potw.org/archive/potw12.html and Ruben Dario I See a Form... (I can't find a link for this poem so I will post it separately)
One inmate volunteered to read it out loud. This session had more inmates and new tutors so in a sense we were starting fresh again. The poems were both about women, and love. The poems were written by two different men, from different countries but during the same era. They tried to pick up on the many elements of the poems but there was still a lot of shyness. I concluded the talk about the poems by explaining that Yeats who was from Ireland and Dario who was from Nicaragua both lived during a time of national turmoil and experienced wars, political corruption, saw destruction and yet loved arts and beauty.
They wrote about love which is universal. They were politically astute enough to understand their surroundings but instead engaged in the arts. Many of them seemed to take a lot from that. I was touched that something I said might have affected them positively somehow.
Then we broke into groups and I helped the same man from the previous week. This time we worked on adding and subtracting positive and negative numbers, multiplying and dividing fractions and I helped him with the trickery questions that would appear on the GED test.
As a personal rule without offense to anyone I will chose to work with another inmate next week because I don't want to get too close to any one man. It seems appropriate to show neutrality.
Now that I have seen the structure of the prison and had a glimpse into the system I see that it is both better and worst than I thought it would be. Programs like the GED tutoring in theory will help these men return to society, hopefully without bouncing back into jail. But walking through the yard I see the lack of so much equipment, recreational activities, and even benches and tables. It is my humble guess that without these tools to stimulate the men fights, petty disagreements, and illicit activity can flourish. The rehabilitation aspect of prison is still lacking from what I can see.
