Most of the time I go through life not realizing that there are portions of society that I have no clue about. Like most of us, I live my life in familiar surroundings interacting with familiar people and take part in low risk, enjoyable activities. I don't even think about sections of our society living a totally different life due to economics, background, race, priorities or a host of other things. Or maybe saying I don't think about them is too strong. I think about them, I just am not linked to nor do I do much more than see other strata of society different from mine in the media or from a distance. Last week I was reminded of this fact in very stark terms.
In my life I've not had any major dealings with law enforcement or the penal system, thank God. I like to think that it's a result of a good upbringing, a level of personal responsibility and a determination to live my life on the right side of the law. Maybe that is true. It could also be true that there is a fair amount of luck involved. When you come face to face with what life could be like, what life IS like for people who have been dramatically and forever impacted by their actions, it can be sobering.
In the last few months I've become more involved with a group called Tender Loving Canines Assistance Dogs (www.tenderlovingcanines.org). It is a wonderful organization that provides trained assistance dogs to Veterans with physical disabilities or PTSD, military kids with Autism, or groups who have needs like courthouses or hospices. These dogs are trained for a couple of years at a prison or military brig by prisoners and then placed in appropriate homes. It is such a win-win-win organization. I've been asked to be a member of their Board of Directors and after getting my feet wet, the Executive Director asked me if I would be interested in going to Donovan State Prison to observe a class in which the prisoners are training the dogs. I thought that it would be a good experience so naturally signed up to attend. Last Wednesday was the chosen day.
I arrived at the prison after a long drive down to very near the border and then another rather long drive through fields and warehouses and nothing much to distinguish the landscape. The area was stark, bleak, and anonymous. The perfect place for a prison I guess. I was ushered through the gate and found the parking lot of the yard which we would visit. Myself and another board member rendezvoused with the ED and we proceeded to the entrance. Along the way she explained that we would be visiting a Level II minimum security yard. There are 6 levels of prison from level 6 Super Max to a level 1 "country club". So I assumed that level II wouldn't be too oppressive. I was wrong.
As we walked to the gate the ED informed us that the prison is a no negotiation facility. In other words, if we were taken hostage, there wouldn't be negotiation for our release. That gave me a bit of pause. But after all, it's a level II facility so there would be nothing to worry about. But still... I won't describe all the gates and fences and sign-ins we negotiated to get into the yard but suffice to say it was formidable. Several cypher gates and holding areas along with electrified fences and no-man's land later, we approached the door to the yard.
As we went through and closed the door, we were in the yard. I hadn't formed any expectations of what it was going to be like but I definitely hadn't expected us to be immediately amongst the prison population. Here we were, the ED with one of their dogs, Woody, myself and the other board member, the instructor, who is a great young woman, and another volunteer who is a retired military man just trying to give back. And off we trekked across the yard. They call it a yard because it is a huge (think the floor of a major stadium) area covered in concrete and gravel and benches of steel and concrete. There are areas of free weights, stationary bicycles, a handball court, a track and gathering areas. It is defined by buildings containing the cell blocks. Like I said previously, for the uninitiated like me, it was an immediate assault on the senses. It would have been pretty easy to turn around and walk out! I was a bit non-plussed by the fact that we didn't have a guard accompanying us and we were surrounded by the prison population. Admittedly it is level II minimum security and the prisoners who are there work hard on their behavior to get there and stay there, but still...
When we got to our destination, which was a cell block on the other side of the yard, we entered through more security doors and more holding areas and signed in once again. The guards are stationed at central control station with 4 pods off that room. We were headed for a classroom right off the center room but first we were invited to visit one of the pods where the cells are. That room is two stories. The first floor has steel benches, some steel tables with attached seating, a huge TV high on the wall, shower room, and other rooms that seemed administrative. Maybe there were a few cells there, not sure. We went to the second floor where most of the cells are to peek into one that was unoccupied for the moment. It houses six prisoners and two dogs and their crates. I was struck by the lack of privacy, but also by how each prisoner had somehow brought in things to make their small area more "homey". There are things that they can buy at the canteen that help. Bottom line was it wasn't great, but it wasn't terrible. I wouldn't want to live there for years and years and years, but I lived in a similar room for 6 months on my first deployment as a young Naval Aviator. But I always knew it would come to an end. These guys don't.
We then spent about 45 minutes down in the classroom observing a class. Dog food was handed out (they can only feed about a week's worth) and medicine was administered as needed. There were 4 dogs in the room and about 20 prisoners. The woman who is the trainer is so impressive. She is definitely in charge and worked with these guys as if they are just folks off the street learning new skills. She was heroic! They broke into 3 groups working on crate training, distraction training, and nail clipping. I had an opportunity to ask some questions and interact with all the prisoners. I was struck by a couple of things. First is that even though they are living a different reality, they are just people. They are living a tough life, but it was obvious how important this dog program is to them. When I say the program offers win-win-win I mean that first is that it's a huge win for the prisoners. These dogs give them some focus, some purpose, someone to love and someone to love them back. Maybe for the first time. They also were very eager to show off their dogs and their skills in handling them. It was impressive. I asked one guy if he thought that the skills he developed here would help him when he got our someday he said, "well, I'm a lifer but if I ever get out, yeah". What do you say to that? But he was rather of matter-of-fact about it. And after a while you almost forget where you are, who you are interacting with, and what the circumstances are. But the reality that this program is vitally important never leaves you. It makes me more determined than ever to make it a success.
Leaving the facility was a rerun of entering except this time I wasn't nearly as shell-shocked. I began to see these guys living their life. As we walked across the yard I noticed all the guys saying hi and smiling at Woody and by extension, us. I began to wonder at the small steps in life that land me where I am and them where they are. I don't think it's a narrow difference, but you never know about fate and circumstances. It makes me wish that I could bring every high schooler I know into this facility. To see the sights, to smell the smells, to feel the desperation and at the same time the humanity. And to realize how important it is to do everything, absolutely everything possible, to avoid getting into a situation that results in being locked away. It also made me wonder about the other side of a time in prison. How could you live this life and then go live a normal, free life? It would be monumentally difficult. But above all I was thankful. Thankful to have seen this part of our existence, even if late in life. Thankful that I've never experienced it. And thankful to be a very small part of a program that is making a difference.
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