My job in General Assembly (Rubber) was housed in a large warehouse building shared by several educational and industry job opportunities. There were 2 main jobs – ring inspections and cutting rubber. I was assigned to rings. Base pay was 50 cents.
Working rings started by retrieving a tub of gaskets and returning to your desk. You examine each for flaws, noting imperfections and rejecting ones with cracks. Slowly the tub would empty, rejects and perfects identified. I was getting settled when Danielle arrived, launching her new career in rings to my right. Danielle didn’t want this job. She was determined to get fired for bad behavior. Her new supervisor was determined to keep her here. Why didn’t she take a sick day every day to get fired? A bizarre power struggle instead unfolded. It soon became clear Danielle was a veteran in this type of war.
Danielle deployed several awesome bad behaviors with drama. She’d arrive at work and slap herself into her desk. Danielle was tall, in her 20’s with long brown hair. Tossing her coat to the floor she’d stomp over to grab a tub of rings, much heavy sighing and shoulder heaving added for effect. Returning to her desk she’d begin a vigil. Sometimes she slept at her desk with a blue prison coat tucked under her chin. She occasionally awoke. Waiting to catch her supervisor’s eye, she’d then toss rings high into the air ’round the room like candy at a parade. Gaskets bouncing and rolling across the floor, she’d continued to empty her tub of rings faster than the rest of us.
Interested (and outraged) I waited for her to be fired. I thought she was awful. Gaskets rolled past my feet as I examined another one and considered throwing a few at her back. Officer Mike was the guard who ran our half of General Assembly. Mike would occasionally have a talk with Danielle. I would have preferred these talks be stern lectures and threats of discipline. They were not. It appeared Officer Mike was trying to help her. I do not remember the outcome, what happened to Danielle. I took this all in though. I was learning guards can be people who care about people.
The other half of the room was run by a guard named Officer Kim. Miss Kim was small and intimidating. She didn’t take any crap. “No talking!” and there was no talking. People were afraid to talk. If they did it was in whispers. She could still hear you. “No talking!” she’d yell.
She once sent an inmate to seg for having a pen. To be fair, she commanded the inmate to turn over the pen. Three times. The inmate refused. Three times. The third time Miss Kim placed a hand on her walkie talkie. Refusal to comply meant arrest and discipline.
The inmate had the pen tucked behind her ear like a backup cigarette. She slowly reached up, dislodged it from her ear and let it tumble to the floor. She waited, daring Miss Kim to pick it up. Miss Kim shook her head sadly. Calling for backup she hit the walkie talkie. Soon surrounded by several guards, she was handcuffed and perp walked to segregation.
One day I glanced over at Miss Kim’s side of the room and noticed Rebecca, who was another interesting inmate. She’d recently been assigned to this job and her heart wasn’t in it. Her heart wasn’t in much of anything. She was friendly, but not a high achiever. I cannot say whether she was actually trying and simply unable to do well, or rather performing poorly on purpose. The result was the same – lots of ruined parts. She was also extremely slow.
On this day I looked up to see Miss Kim approach Rebecca. Miss Kim had every reason to discuss Rebecca’s poor work. That’s not what she did. To my surprise she said, “Rebecca, I want to tell you I’m impressed with your self-discipline. This job starts early and it’s full-time, long hours. It’s clear you do not enjoy it and find it difficult. Most women choose to ‘sick out’ until they are fired. You continue to come here every day on time! That’s very unusual, so I want to ask you – how can I help you? Let’s make this work.”
Years later I became an Adult Basic Education (G.E.D.) tutor at the prison (still incarcerated – we are fast forwarding a bit). A student named Felicia had recently been added to the class. She appeared extremely depressed. She rarely did her work, even when put with a group where she might simply copy the answers from them. She wouldn’t ask for help and rarely spoke at all. She sat frozen, hugging herself, rarely talking, rarely moving, never smiling.
After a few weeks I bought a blank card on canteen and told her how glad I was to have her in our class. I started, “I want to tell you I’m impressed with your self-discipline. It’s clear you do not enjoy coming to class. Most women skip class until they are fired. But you continue to come here every day on time! That’s very unusual. You are respectful to the teacher and do not disrupt class. You are honest and that shows when you refuse to turn in work you did not do yourself. I am glad to have you in class. How can I help you better?”
I mailed her the card. She never made mention of it, but a few days later she arrived to class with all of her work completed. She joined her group and worked with them. She raised her hand to ask for help. She did not smile, but she talked. She shared. She cried. She appeared to breathe for the first time in months. It was no accident Danielle was seated next to me. Nor was it coincidental that despite Rebecca being across a busy room I happened to look over at the moment Miss Kim was heading over to have a talk with her. I learned some things from Mike and Kim.
One afternoon, while sitting in the dayroom in Tubman, I spotted Katy headed down the walk. She wheeled a cart with bins. Her blonde hair, shaved to the scalp during R&O, was now a few inches long and greasy. As she pushed through the front door I noted her usually happy expression was replaced with a look of despair.
My stomach tightened. On occasion the women in Tubman could be cruel bullies. I was immediately concerned Katy might become a new target. Rumor had it Katy had been at IFI, the prison’s faith based program. Rumor also had it she’d been a target for bullying, as she was a sex-offender.
I understood. My first day at the prison I’d met a woman in the medical waiting room. She started a conversation with me and things rolled around to, “Why are you here?” I told her the truth and she responded, “Oh, don’t ever tell anyone else here the truth.”
“Why not?” I asked. I’d had no trouble with the woman at jail when I was truthful. I told her this.
“Prison is different,” she answered, thinking. “Tell people you got DUIs. Better tell them you got at least 5 of them so they don’t question your sentence length.”
I knew nothing about drinking and driving laws. I knew little about drinking at all. I shrugged, uncomfortable, but agreed.
It didn’t take long to be found out. My ignorance about alcohol was obvious to serious drinkers. I gave up the ruse. I did notice the few other sex-offenders I met seemed terrified of having their criminal charges revealed. They hid in their rooms and avoided other inmates. I determined I could not live that way either. Certain free society would treat me poorly for my offense, I decided to get the initial shock of being abused over with. While I wouldn’t advertise my offense, I’d be direct when asked.
My second week working in General Assembly Tana Thompson went on the attack. “Hey! Hey! Did your student get you pregnant?” Someone behind me said loudly. I didn’t realize this person was talking to me as I was not a teacher and had no students. The voice persisted, “Hey! Didn’t you hear me?” The room, already hushed because of Ms. Kim, grew silent as a tomb, every ear straining to hear my answer.
I turned to find Tana staring at me. Tana was Native American and her face suggested she was born with fetal alcohol syndrome. For fun she walked down the halls, pressing the disconnect lever on phones as she walked past unsuspecting women making calls.
“I’m not a teacher,” I answered. “I haven’t even gone to college.”
Tana smiled knowingly. “There’s no use lying. We can look you up on the internet, you know.”
I grew impatient, “I sure wish you would!” I said forcefully. “If you did you’d stop bothering me with nonsense.” I returned to my work. No one in the room breathed.
There was a long pause, then Tana said, “Ok, well I know you are a sex offender.” I looked up to see another inmate’s sly smile. It was likely she was the instigator. I ignored them both. Tana tried again, “So how old was this boy? 12?” I looked at her and shook my head no. “13? 14?” she continued and I shook my head each time.
Her face grew angry and she burst out, “So who gave me this crappy information anyways?” The sly inmate’s smile had been wiped away and she hurried off to work elsewhere. Tana watched her leave with a snort. After a moment, time started moving again and the room returned to normal. I shook it off.
Now, as Katy received room keys at the desk and disappeared down the hall I clapped my hands for attention. The dayroom quieted and everyone looked at me. A flutter moved through my tummy. Thinking of Katy’s sad eyes I grew bold and said, “Listen up, ladies. My friend Katy just moved in and we are all going to be extra nice to her. She has had a difficult time lately. Let’s work to encourage her and help her feel better.” The women nodded their assent. Feeling more confident I nodded my thanks and went to find Katy, surprised that went so well.
Even more surprising, over the next several weeks the women in Tubman gave Katy extra encouragement. One day I saw Katy with bobby pins in her hair. Feeling better she had taken extra time with her appearance. Another woman noticed as well and said, “Katy, your hair looks cute!” Katy blushed; I marveled.
I was about to meet someone else important. Strolling towards Tubman where I lived I did a double take! My mother-in-law appeared to be heading down the nearest walkway to Broker! I stopped. It was a glimpse and the woman was gone. Shaking my head I moved on, laughing at myself. “Impossible!” I snorted.
A week later Laura, my pseudo mother-in-law, was sitting in front of me in General Assembly. The similarities were stunning. I’d known my mother-in-law for 20 years, and they had seen our relationship in many stages. Right now our relationship was pretty poor. Laura spun in her chair to introduce herself. Leaning forward and resting her arms on the desk between us she tossed out, “Hi, I’m Laura! What’s your name?” Her green gaze penetrated mine as she waited for a response.
Not allowed to talk at work, the room was hushed as a library. My mother-in-law’s name wasn’t Laura, and several small conflicts took place within me. What rose to the top of the emotional pile was, “Me?? Are you talking to me??” I didn’t say that out loud, but acted it out like charades as I froze, project in hand. Raising my eyebrows questioningly I slowly turned to the left (even though I was the last person in the row) and looked over my shoulder to see who Laura was making new friends with.
No one behind me and no one in the row to my left. Returning my gaze to the front, Laura is still staring at me! She makes no mention of my curious behavior so far. Still a bit off I check my right side for Laura’s new friend who’s certainly not me. Another slow neck swivel with similar results. Feeling a bit silly I return my gaze front and center. Nonplussed, Laura answers my unasked question, “Yes I’m talking to you. What’s your name?” Oh. Laura became a wonderful friend! She was so much like my mother-in-law I could not remember her actual name and always called her by my mother-in-law’s name. She got used to it. She started answering to it. What can you do?
Chad had moved to Washington with our children and was living with his parents, and this was very hard for me to think about. I hated that they were far away. In my heart I was bitter. Now I wondered if God had placed Laura in my life to soften me. Laura was easy to love, and she was a daily reminder of how easy my mother-in-law had been to love.
My heart began to thaw little by little and bitterness started to leave me.
“One of those who listened to us was a woman named Lydia, from the city of Thyatira, a dealer in fabrics dyed in purple. She was already a worshiper of God, and the Lord opened her heart to pay attention to what was said by Paul.” Acts 14:16
Discussion Questions:
- In the passage, Holly encounters difficult individuals like Danielle and Rebecca. Have you ever dealt with challenging people in your life, either at work or in personal relationships? How did you handle the situation? Are you dealing with a difficult situation today?
- Miss Kim praises Rebecca for her self-discipline despite her poor performance at cutting rubber. How important do you think it is for leaders to recognize effort and commitment even when the results may not be stellar? Can you recall a time when someone acknowledged your effort rather than just the outcome?
- Holly shares an experience of reaching out to a depressed and withdrawn student, Felicia, with words of encouragement. How can simple acts of kindness, like the card Holly sent, make a significant impact on someone’s life? Have you ever experienced or initiated such an act of kindness?
- Laura, who initially appears to be Holly’s mother-in-law, turns out to be a new friend with a similar demeanor. How do preconceived notions and assumptions influence our perceptions of others? Can you think of a time when you misjudged someone based on initial impressions?
- Holly reflects on the strained relationship with her husband and his family, expressing bitterness. How does Laura’s presence in the Holly’s life contribute to her emotional transformation? Can you recall a person or experience that helped you soften or change your perspective on a challenging situation?
READ MORE…
- Chapter 1: JAILClick to rate this post! [Total: 0 Average: 0] Intake process at the county jail passed in a blur. Well that’s not exactly true. It dragged on, so boring it became forgettable. An officer transported me by police car from… Read more: Chapter 1: JAIL
- Introduction: Get to know From Surviving to Living!Click to rate this post! [Total: 0 Average: 0]Click to rate this post! [Total: 0 Average: 0]
- Chapter 2: BAIL, SENTENCING, & PRISON INTAKEClick to rate this post! [Total: 0 Average: 0] Released on bail after 3 months in jail, Chad arrived to bring me home, telling me in the car, “We’re being evicted and everything has to be out of the house by… Read more: Chapter 2: BAIL, SENTENCING, & PRISON INTAKE
- Chapter 3: GROWING UPClick to rate this post! [Total: 0 Average: 0]Click to rate this post! [Total: 0 Average: 0]
- Chapter 4: ORIENTATION (CHANGE, SHOCK & AWE, SUICIDE WATCH)Click to rate this post! [Total: 0 Average: 0] Part One March 2011 – September 2015 “There is none righteous [none that meets God’s standard], not even one.” ~Romans 3:11 (AMP) “The way of the wicked is like [deep] darkness; they… Read more: Chapter 4: ORIENTATION (CHANGE, SHOCK & AWE, SUICIDE WATCH)
