by Chi Chi Locci
“We don’t need no education. We don’t need no thought control.” Those are lyrics to a rock song I used to sing, written by Pink Floyd. I live with the controversy of whether I deserve to be educated. I wake up to a society within a society that deems me unfit, yet I wake up as a functional human being that lives and dreams and has aspirations for my children and grandchildren just like everyone else. To become a part of a group of people who once led households, worked, or owned their own businesses, only to find that, through some unlawful, sometimes intentional, often avoidable, situation that anyone could find themselves in at any given time, took it all away and for some of us forever. I really find this redundant routine is very much the same as everyday practices beyond this wall. The society I once lived in created a belief that law-abiding citizens were exempt, from fear of the unfamiliar; we never assumed that our middle class communities are riddled with drugs, infidelity, unemployment, embezzlement, gang violence, and never ever would we believe that our children are molested by family and friends. Our belief is that we watch our children grow, get married, go to college, or fulfill their dreams. All of those things I have accomplished through phone calls, letters, and three-hour visits. We are conditioned to believe if we have a good job and cared for our family and friends, that most any social conditions or injustice would not or should not affect us. This was my norm.
My world now consists of me being perceived as abnormal, or a part of the chosen few who programs, believes that just because I’m here I’m still a person who can excel; I still have a higher power, eager to help my fellow persons—and when offered the opportunity that will afford me to meet someone new, learn something more than what I already know, I grab it. My associates are the same. I watch children come in here and those I can reach I do. I was never a part of street anything, because my parents were different and so were the times. I see that our society looks at the punishment, not the reasoning. I don’t take for granted that some people are bad, misguided, or just satisfied in their corruptness. I also believe that some of these children have issues that we as adults ignored. As a group that realized that this place and the graveyard never closes; we have created an abnormal society. When the establishment creates laws or rules that state that our children are to go to school, get a job, to become assets rather than liabilities—What happens to the incentive program that you incorporated as well? What about the prom they never went to? What about the trip they take after graduation? What about the first kiss at sweet 16, or the first slumber party? Or what happened to their first car that was promised because of their achievements, moral support, something as simple as a hug, acknowledgement, or managing their basic needs? What would make this generation seek the abandoned building they crash at, or the kiss that their homies gave them, or the car they received from the GTA (grand theft auto) they just did? Who explains the change their bodies go through, who shows them how to read, cook, and care for themselves? Isn’t that your norm?
Now contrary to popular belief that we are all monsters from the black lagoon, most of us were and still are human, which is not to say that I have not met any monsters (just kidding). I am now a resident of the world’s largest women’s prison, the Central California Women’s Facility (CCWF), prioritizing is my main object, here to incorporate the cliché: “Don’t serve time, let time serve you.” I automatically found the ins and outs of the daily operations of my surroundings. I began to write requests to introduce myself, keep my mind open for opportunities as they made themselves available. The idea of working on myself through this time made all the sense in the world to me. I realize that I had everything to lose, and most of all my family was doing this time with me. The expectations of me were high. So the quest for the answers to “Prison 101” took precedence. I am now on my tenth year here and, thus far, I have worked and acquired a GED. I am now on my second semester of college and attend every self-help group, working to receive every chrono I can obtain and every social organization I can participate in, I do. I am presently the chairperson for the education committee for Long termers and Lifers Organization (LTO); I am the former Women’s Auxiliary Committee (WAC) person that brought graduation ceremonies back to this facility. Women prisoners are the new commodity. Being here is very much like living in a gated community where everyone knows everyone. Officers, administrators, teachers, cooks, and medical personnel are a part of this community. We are housed 8 women to a cell, 8 personalities, up close and personal, ages 18 to 80. We come from different backgrounds, races, education levels, and crimes. You learn to use your intuition, choose your battles and get along. Compromising to get an area to study, to be alone for an hour, all those things sincerely appreciated. We no longer take anything or anyone for granted if you are sincere about change. The alpha female may be negative or positive, and others may follow either way. You still know there is a leader and a follower.
On a weekly basis we shop, on a quarterly basis we order boxes, and as money is earned or sent as a gift we pay restitution of 55 percent, we pay taxes, sales tax and others; however, most of all we make a check on a monthly basis that I am sure the work hours don’t equate to such minimum pay. We start our day at 4:30 a.m. and most of us are turning on the internal lights that dictate another day is here; get up it’s time to sign up for the phones, laundry, early eaters, and kosher. A part of this program is creating a schedule that revolves around your work and school, as well as your library and outside activities, such as NA, AA, and religious services. There is always constant movement here; one thing is definitely understood and that is this place never closes.
There are shifts as some are returning from their graveyard shifts and others are preparing to go to work, parole, or stay inside and watch the soaps or visit their hybrid families, or do what they have always done: take life for granted and blame everyone else.
I truly understand that time management is of the essence. I’ve learned effective communication, and for those of us who haven’t still visited the “Black-Eyed Fairy” while the COs stay employed and it’s another day in the neighborhood. To become aware that in this life you are always in store for the next lesson, this environment embraces the challenge of “big fish-little fish,” you sink or swim. This is always a test and the best of us make it through because we don’t give up nor give in. When you understand the cost of all this is your mind, your spirit, your soul, you somehow understand that it all depends on you and how you perceive yourself. If it’s bad we all suffer. If it’s good only you are mentioned or rewarded, so I seek to do my best for myself and for the masses. You are either the teacher or the student, always looked upon as an exception. I would like to believe that somehow I’ve allowed you a glimpse into my world on a daily basis and that you would choose not to slip up and make this any part of your reality.
Republished from “Perspectives from the Cell Block: An Anthology of Prisoner Writings” – edited by Joan Parkin in collaboration with incarcerated people from Mule Creek State Prison.
