Sunday, January 30, 2011

My First Experience with a Forgotten Population

A write up from an experience I had about a month ago. I encourage all my followers to check out Satellite180.org for more information.

When Mr. Greg Rose, Executive Director, of Satellite Re-entry Inc offered me an invitation to join the Board of Directors, I was thrilled. It was an easy decision to make. Satellite Re-entry serves and supports a population that I have been passionate about for years. I knew by joining this non-profit, that I could use my skills and knowledge to help a group of young men that are desperate for genuine advocates. Little did I consider just how much these same young men would bless and enhance my own life.

After accepting the Board of Directors invitation to join the Board, I was elected to hold the role as Program Committee Chair. My role on the Board has given me an opportunity to meet the young men we support in Burrus Prison as well as meet their H.E.A.D.S. UP teacher and mentor, who happens to be a prisoner himself. H.E.A.D.S. UP is a program supported by the efforts of Satellite Re-entry Inc. and offers the SB440 inmates a chance at learning new life skills and new ways of understanding themselves and others while serving out their sentences. My first trip to Burrus Prison was one of specific purpose. I was to meet with the teacher/mentor that is delivering the H.E.A.D.S UP curriculum on the inside and offer clinical feedback regarding its content and whether or not the curriculum is age appropriate given the experiences of these young men. That being said, I began the process of providing feedback but the day consisted of so much more. It provided me with an experience that will not soon be forgotten.

During my visit, I had the opportunity to sit in on the H.E.A.D.S. UP class and meet the young men that Satellite Re-entry Inc is currently supporting. Walking into the classroom, I didn’t know what to expect nor did I know how my presence in the class would be received. I stood in front of the classroom as a group of about 20 SB440 prisoners walked in, anticipating their Friday afternoon class. I had already been warned that the group would need to see that I was genuine and that I could relate to them in some way. I am certain that this group of 18 African American young men, one Hispanic and one Caucasian had their doubts as to how I could relate or why I would even care about their existence. After all, for most of them, they are the “forgotten” population as they grow up in adult prison, most of them between the ages of 15-18. The group of young men were polite, shaking my hand and allowing me to introduce myself to them casually as they took their seats. Their teacher/mentor gave me an opportunity to answer any questions the group had for me and encouraged me to share with the group my background and why I was there to meet them. I was not surprised when the group didn’t have any questions for me. Having worked in similar populations in the past, I knew that they were waiting on me to “explain” myself and “sell” myself to them in such a way that they could slowly let down their guards and feel safe that I was in their space. After giving the group my unrehearsed version of my professional background and allowing them to see a glimpse of who I am, I felt as if I had been accepted. It is now my mission to ensure that they feel accepted too.
I interacted in the classroom only as cued by the teacher. For me, it was more about looking at each individual and looking into their eyes; where their souls lie and their stories remain untold. As I sat and allowed my eyes to circle the room, the emotions that tugged at my heart where often overwhelming. Deep breathes got me through it as well as the hope that I can help rally more people to listen to their stories and advocate for this group that has no voice. Their pain is evident if you take the time to look and listen. These are adolescents being raised in an adult prison where the majority of the staff ignore their emotional pain and seem to have forgotten that they are adolescents, not adults. They are filled with fear and uncertainty as many of them still have many years to serve in their mandatory sentences. However, despite their pain and fear, my heart sang as the H.E.A.D.S. UP program offers these young men hope for a brighter future despite their past. The excitement and eagerness to create a future that is vastly different from their past could be heard and seen in the classroom. They are passionate about the program they have chosen to be a part of and cling to every word of hope. This is likely what gets many of them through the dark and lonely nights behind bars with others who don’t have their best interest at hand.

Not many of us can even come close to imagining what these adolescents go through on a daily basis. Many of them don’t have consistent family support, they don’t receive encouraging mail, they feel misunderstood and labeled and most of all, they feel forgotten. It is my hope that through my active participation with Satellite Re-entry Inc., I can be a voice for the “forgotten” and find new ways for them to feel accepted and important to those of us who are taking steps towards providing them with opportunities to make their future different from their past.

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