MJ-Way

The journalist finished the interview and the Warden was happy. The article would appear in our metropolitan paper later in the week. I made arrangements to visit her farm. Once that was done, I would let the warden know what I thought we could do to get the manure for our garden. We said our goodbyes, and I informed her I would meet up with her later in the week. I also informed the warden that I needed to get back to the school. I had an idea of someone who I thought might be able to help me out with this project and I needed to run my ideas by him. He would need to get permission from his supervisor to help me, and we would have to look at the barn later in the week to see what was feasible. The warden let me know he trust my judgement and would support what ever I decided to do. I knew I would need equipment. I just didn’t know the logistics. That would have to be decided after I spoke with the person I thought could help me.

That person had a lot of experience with the kind of logistics I would need to maneuver and operate the heavy equipment I would be requesting to use. I also considered him my mentor in the DOC. He had never failed to give me good advice, and I appreciated his honesty. I had what psychologists’ called a “type A personality” and he was the complete opposite, “type B.” This defined our working relationship for the next 20 some years in the DOC. We had some very interesting experiences working together and I appreciated his mentoring. When I mentioned to him what I was planning on doing he laughed. I explained that we would have to view the property first, but that if we could get this manure it would be great for the prison garden. At the same time we would be making a citizen of the immediate community happy as well. He left it up to me to make the arrangements to visit the property and he believed his supervisor would not have a problem approving his help with this project.

The arrangements to visit the property were made and I couldn’t wait. When we arrived on the property there were a couple of horses in the pasture who couldn’t run up to us quick enough for what they probably thought was a meal. I patted their snouts and seeing I had nothing to feed them ran back to the pasture to feed. The barn was tilted to one side and looked as if a strong wind could blow it over. It was old. The barn wood was all weathered and in some areas the sunlight shown through the deteriorating wood illuminating what would be our work area. The opening to the barn was large enough for our tractor but not the dump truck. We would have to excavate and then shovel the manure into the truck. A two step process. My concern was the risk and I knew I had to find a way to minimize that calculus. My helper was all in. He had taken a shovel and determined that in some places there was more than three feet of compacted manure. This was a gardens gold mine. He believed he would not have a problem excavating the manure. He would fill the dump truck and I would take it back to the prison to be dumped in our garden. “The easy part,” He said. To Be Continued….

Psalms 103

.She was a free-lance journalist for one of our leading metro newspapers, and she wanted to speak with me about the Horticulture program. I was called to the Warden’s conference room in the Administration Building, and that was not viewed by any of my colleagues as a good thing. A page overhead for an employee to report to the “Warden’s anything” usually meant bad news for the employee. I signed myself out of the school building and headed to the conference room reviewing in my mind the people met earlier in the day. Did I piss somebody off, and is that why I am being called to this meeting? I was relieved once I entered the conference room to see the Warden smiling. He introduced me to a journalist and began to tell me why she was here. It seems she lived in the area and had been raising horses on a farm not far from the prison. She did a story recently on an agency we had been donating produce to and she couldn’t believe the amounts she was told we were donating. She wanted to do a story on us, and she had a proposal. I looked skeptical at her when she mentioned “proposal.” The Warden seeing my reaction asked me to hear her out.

.I was relieved to know that’s why I was called up here , and not anything I imagined I might have said to piss somebody off. Diplomacy and states man ship were not qualities I could claim. If someone pissed me off they were immediately informed of that fact. I didn’t use tact. I didn’t mince words. I used language that got their attention, and that usually meant someone would not be happy. Especially if they seemed to over hear what I thought was a soliloquy. Anyway, I was glad to inform her that the Warden was responsible for the success of the Horticulture program. and because of his constant support we were able to grow the amount of produce we donated. I emphasized “constant” because his underlings were constantly finding fault with the program when he wasn’t at our facility and my boss was at the other prison school. I quit telling them both of his deputized assistants giving me a hard time. Especially, my last assignment. It wasn’t worth the aggravation. The journalist’s proposal was simple. She lived down the road and she was living at her families house. The family had raised horses. They had more than a dozen horses at a time but had failed to clean the barn for the past five years.

.They decided that horses were no longer going to be raised at their farm. ( I think the local health department had a hand in that decision) She was curious. Would we be interested in looking at the barn the horses stood and shit in for the past 5 years (my words not hers) and find a way to remove the 5 year old compacted horse manure? My mind went into over drive as I started calculating how many times horses shit a day, times 12 horses, times 365 days a year times 5!!!! I asked her for the size of the barn and if she new the size of the area they were kept in. She gave me the size of the barn and she informed me the horses were kept in half of it on one side. This was a gold mine of nutrients for our prison garden, and I thought I had a way of getting all of it. I informed her she could begin the interview. I believed I had a way of getting the manure. I needed to run the plan by our Warden and I would call her for a time to look at the barn. She was glad to know I was interested and began the interview. TO BE CONTINUED…

Isaiah 7: 14, & Mathew 1: 18-23

Earlier in my teaching career I had a run in with a deputy and her assistant. She and her assistant had tried to stop the warden from approving my plans for landscaping the prison grounds to no avail. What I didn’t realize then was that they viewed me as a threat. This was told to me by the maintenance mechanic who installed our greenhouse. He had to do some work in the deputy suite and all he heard was our deputy complaining about the prison looking “too soft” with all the flower gardens, and “what more would I create given card blanche from our warden.” It was a sobering revelation because I thought this all had been resolved in the first year of our greenhouse being constructed, and my plans being accepted by our warden. Three years forward and I was still hearing about pushback from the upper prison echelons who believed the horticulture class was not good for prison security. It was a tough group to convince and I didn’t have the time or energy to school them. However, they had some schooling for me and when the warden or my principal was at another facility they became master disrupters of the program.

The siren was blown and the school was emptied of all students and tutors. We were on lockdown. The school closed. This meant that custody became our immediate supervisors and our new assignments were based on what ever prison administration thought the need was. That meant we could be assigned to search prisoner cells in the housing units, help run the prisoner housing units, giving a break to custody officers so they could get lunch, or do other tasks, like helping out in the mess hall, serving lunches or delivering lunches depending on the severity of the lock down. It always depended on what caused the lockdown as to where we would be assigned. Sometimes it was just a regular monthly drill where all non custody employees were gathered in one area of the school and accounted for. Once accounted for they would be delivered to the Administration building’s visitor room for further assignment. That assignment would depend on the current administrations feelings toward you. If they loved you, or feared you, you got to sit in the think tank and do absolutely nothing in the wardens conference room. I heard the donuts and coffee were to die for.

If they hated, or feared you but not enough to be afraid of how they treated you, you can rest assured your assignment would be one for the record books. I had quite a few of the record breaking assignments and my colleagues often shook their heads when I informed them of where I was assigned. So on this historical day I was the only non custody employee who got assigned to do strip searches of prisoners. With the help of our school officers I was trained in the proper way of conducting the searches referred to as “nuts and butts.” Our school officer couldn’t help but notice I was the only non custody employee assigned here. “It’s obvious”, he chirped. ” Our deputy hates the flowers and you keep expanding the gardens.” I had to inform him that I don’t consider them gardens. They are my laboratories, and with the help of God we have been very successful with our classroom/greenhouse experiments. The landscape spoke of that success. ” Well than, Welcome to our circus,” he said laughing. “With your continued success it looks like you’ll be joining us on a regular basis!” That was understated and he was absolutely correct. I was going to have to figure this out quickly or I would begin being assigned to some very difficult areas every time the siren blew. Being singled out for some” Special High Intensity Training,” by our current prison administration gave me even more motivation to continue expanding our gardens. So I did just that, and I also developed a plan for the next time the siren was blown and I was reassigned. TO BE CONTINUED…

Isaiah 9:6, John 3:16

.After all the craziness with the contraband and the need to change my curriculum away from the distribution of house plants, I took new inspiration from a woman I met at a correctional teacher’s conference in Ann Arbor, Michigan. Her name was Elanor Jositis and I could identify with her struggle to bring opportunity to a community so lacking of it. What I admired the most was her efforts to bring vocational training to an area marked by civil unrest. She was a key note speaker at the conference and she made the Correctional Teachers and Instructors feel appreciated. She spoke highly of her students who had come to Focus Hope from being incarcerated. She felt many of them where prepared having their GED’s and/or vocational certifications. Her staff found them willing and motivated and she thanked us for that. It was a breath of fresh air hearing her say that. Before Mrs. Jositis spoke, we were berated by another key note speaker for not doing enough to prepare our students for the world once they left the prison system. It was nice to hear that someone felt we were making a difference. Especially a leader in the community whose organization was known for providing vocational training and employment for a population lacking the opportunity.

.I began to steer my students who would be paroling to the city to Focus Hope. I was trained to give the General Education Development exams. and to those students receiving their GED’s, if they were paroling to the city, I would direct them to contact Focus Hope. I had a list of apprenticeships for the skilled trades to offer my students, but I always felt that they were capable of becoming skilled machinists. If they could divide an eight ball of cocaine, (many of them being in the drug trade), they could read a micrometer and blue prints. Focus Hope would provide the training and the students would have to show motivation by learning the material then applying it. Focus Hope has state of the art equipment and a genuine environment for training adult learners. I became a conduit for my students to seek them out if they were returning to the city. The demand for good machinists was strong and Focus Hope’s reputation was well known in the manufacturing sector for producing them.

.I would reconnect with Focus Hope on a regular basis. Myself and a colleague would make the trip on an annual basis to visit. The staff were always welcoming and would provide us an update of their latest’s technologies. They were also expanding and included a new child care center and food pantry for their students. After the demise of the house plant business at the prison, it was a welcome relief to hear of the successes this organization was making in the city with our returning citizens. I would be approached on a regular basis by my students or their friends to make copies of the flyers and pamphlets published by Focus Hope which hung in my classroom. I was told over the years of my students who had found success there and became machinists. I was eternally grateful when I had heard this and continue to this day to support this organization. In the world we live today this organization and its’ message is ever the more relevant. I was glad to help my students reconnect with their community through Focus Hope. It was also a new way for me to reconnect with the community having given up on the house plant business. I was refreshed in a sense, and would look for even more opportunities for my students to display their skills. TO BE CONTINUED…

Isaiah 9: 1-3, Mathew 4: 12-17

.So after three long months of investigations and my program being put on hold I was informed by our school officer that a cell phone, 32mm magazine clip (missing 2 bullets with 5 bullets remaining in the clip) and a buck knife were discovered inside a plant container. An ounce of Marihuana was also discovered under a locked cabinet in a supply room. The same room the officers had been meeting each other on regular basis for their rendezvous. I wondered why the current school administration had not informed me of this, and I brought this subject up at our staff meeting. My colleagues were in shock when I repeated what our school officer said was found in the plant container. The colleague I had been admonishing for being myopic informed me that the phone contained a video as well, and was purchased by one of the officers he had seen leaving the supply room a little disheveled. Our new school secretary who was anything but professional blurted out, (to the chagrin of our new school principal) “it was a sex video!” From the secretary’s exacerbated tone and our new principal’s laughing acknowledgement I felt ill at ease.

.Now I was completely befuddled by these revelations. For how long was this known? I was on the administrative hot seat for the past three months and no one from our current administration had informed me of these findings. Our school officer being in the same position as me because of the contraband informed the group that he was just made aware of these facts a week ago and had informed me of the contraband found in the planter. He was just informed today that the video was a ménage a trois between the two officers often seen in the supply room together and a prisoners’ wife. The officers in the video both resigned before an investigation could be conducted on them. One of the officers had risen in rank and was seen as a department “golden child.” The ramifications of liability for the DOC were evident. The school principal informed us that the bullets missing from the 32 mm clip were found and that a gun was not smuggled into our facility. At the time I found this hard to believe. The motivation for the contraband was never discussed formally. The why, what, and when were left to speculation. In the DOC set ups occurred on a regular basis and it was assumed that’s what happened with these officers.

.I remembered what the instructors at the academy had taught us in new employee school. We would have more problems with staff than we would with prisoners. I was skeptical when they made this point. I began losing that skepticism the longer I taught for the department and began seeing staff compromised. I was made a Chief Union Steward by default ( nobody wanted the job) and I had volunteered. I began representing people who had been compromised far beyond my help. I would inform them to contact a lawyer and hope the department doesn’t prosecute. They didn’t appreciate the advice. All terminations could be grieved, but in light of the DOC’s willingness to prosecute, most defendants just resigned. I was a lousy union representative when it came to terminations. I told my employer they would eventually get someone killed. They waited until they had more than enough evidence that an employee was compromised and I informed them that in so doing, another innocent employee could be hurt. They wanted to “make their case” was often the response. In the ten terminations I had to represent while being a steward, not one fought to get their job back. The incriminating evidence was overwhelmingly not in their favor. I think the officers figured that out quickly, and left without letting the door hit them where the Good Lord split them. I don’t know what the department did in their case. The information was never shared with me. I just knew the house plant business I started 10 years ago was no more. My bubble burst. I would look for other opportunities to show case what my students could accomplish by completing the class.

To Be Continued…

Luke 1:31-33

The officers came out of the supply room with the evidence of their dalliance being a little disheveled. They tucked in their shirts and straightened out their uniform pants as they exited opposite ends of the school building. This had been reported to me by a colleague who had witnessed them leaving the supply room before. I had been admonishing my colleague to watch what was going on around us and not to be too myopic when dealing with our environment. It was easy to do. We have so many hours of classroom instruction, our facility reports, tickets written to prisoners for not attending school, evaluations of our students, and our school utilization reports were burdens that our current administrators thought were justifications for their high paying employment. With our work load I failed to understand what my colleague was trying to tell me. The ramifications of that observation would effect my program in the most negative way later in my career. For now, we were operating at full capacity. Seven classroom hours a day left little time for writing reports. Unfortunately, I became myopic with the demands of this work load. The very same thing was happening to all the educators in the school. We all had unmanageable work loads and were chastised for not turning reports in on time.

I continued to focus on Horticulture. We had over three hundred house plants in our greenhouse propagated from cuttings by my students. We developed a program of donating those plants to our local community hospitals, senior citizen centers, nursing homes, and all the offices in our facility that wanted them. Our warden made sure that his office, his assistant’s office, our lobbies and visiting areas all had hanging houseplants or large floor plants. Sometimes both. We exchanged plants when needed, and doctored those that needed immediate attention before sending them back healthy again. We could replace them immediately with new plants when needed and our staff often visited the greenhouse looking for new plants to replace the ones they “over loved.” Too much water and not enough light as evidenced by our long cold winters had us replacing plants on a very regular basis. Even though I would instruct staff that house plants don’t need as much water during the winter months but we would still have to try to revive the drowned brought back to our greenhouse. It was a thriving business model and would go on for many years. The joy it brought our immediate community was evidenced by letters of thanks sent to our warden who in turn shared them with us on a regular basis. It was uplifting and my students appreciated the accolades.

As in life, all good things must come to an end. “Toutes les bonnes choses ont une fin” Ten years into the house plant business contraband was found in a house plant container on a secretary’s desk in one of the administrative school building suites. My program was completely shut down and searches began in my classroom, and greenhouse. The plants in my room were emptied into the middle of it. (Thank God I asked they not carpet my room when they carpeted the other classrooms.) Books and videos were pulled from the shelves and thrown throughout the room after being searched. The same search was conducted in the greenhouse. The staff who had acquired plants from our program were asked to search their plant containers for contraband. I would be on pins and needles for the next three months as a much less friendlier education administration took control over the school

This incident would make the current education administration less promotable, and could keep them from reaching the next step in their career ladders. They were not happy with me. In the beginning I was not informed of what the contraband was, or what I was being suspected of. The tutors I had working for me were assigned to different areas not in the school. I was allowed to keep two of the six I had working for me because they had only begun working for the school a short time. Two of the six were transferred to other facilities, and I decided at that point the house plant business was over. After three months of investigations, turmoil and stress, I felt it was in my best interest to eliminate that part of my curriculum My students would till be taught how to produce and care for house plants but on a much smaller scale. The plants made a very interesting compost pile as I emptied the greenhouse. I was finally informed by our school officer the details of what the contraband was, and it shocked me. I was not prepared for what was told to me, and I wondered why our new school administrators had not been the ones to inform me. I felt betrayed and did not view them favorably. I am sure my feelings were mutual. I again began to question why was I working here?

TO BE CONTINUED …

Psalms 91:1-16

After my two new tutors tested positive for opiates, the school principal had asked our warden to conduct a search in the greenhouse and my classroom. My students would not be allowed back into the classroom or greenhouse until the search was completed. The school principal wanted to make sure nothing was being hidden in my classroom or greenhouse and had requested the warden to have the State Police bring in drug detecting dogs to scour both areas. Our principal had all the students removed from the school. We went into our conference room for a staff meeting with our warden and then our school principal asked that every room in the school be searched using the dogs as well. It was an interesting day. The dogs actually found one marihuana seed wrapped in cellophane thrown into a trash can. I was impressed. Our warden informed us that he felt the marihuana seed was a setup perpetuated by a disgruntled worker I had fired earlier in the year. The worker had access to the area it was found in. The ex-worker was then transferred to another facility. No other drugs were found in the school or greenhouse. The gardens were also checked and the dogs found nothing there as well.

Our warden informed us that the dogs would be used routinely to search out contraband and cautioned us to be alert. This was all new to me. I felt that we were all suspect, and rightly so. The prison staff were all possible contraband vectors. This was the reality right up to my retirement 25 years later. The prisoners would, could and did find mules to bring them whatever they wanted on a regular basis. This was a dangerous game and staff fell victim to it as well as visitors. I could not understand this, but it was an inherent part of doing business in the prison. I was ever cognizant of what was going on around me, and questioned if I was being distracted purposefully so as not to see what was happening elsewhere. It lead me to arrange my classroom so that my desk was in the back of the room, and my students’ desks were facing the front of the classroom. It was much easier for me not to be distracted having a view of them at all times as well as the hallway. I could respond quickly to any interruptions this way. It worked for me while class was in session but when class was over and students exited into the hallway it was much more difficult to monitor.

I was told later in the month that one of the tutors who had tested positive for opiates was released from prison after winning his freedom on an appeal. He had been incarcerated for over 25 years. A month later I was informed by one of his friends that he died of an opiate overdose. Unfortunately, this would not be the last time I would hear of opiate overdoses and deaths. The “opiate crisis” would wreak havoc in communities across the United States affecting friends and families of many citizens including those returning to their communities from prison. The Narcan pen had not been developed yet, and overdosing was very common. What I began seeing in the prison with opiates was the same thing I saw when “crack cocaine” hit the streets in the neighborhoods around the medical centers I worked. Crack cocaine junkies became scrappers and began to take apart their communities one house at a time to get the money needed for their crack habits. Gangs wreaked havoc in communities as they fought for control of this very lucrative trade. Fire bombings and drive by shootings were the methods employed for intimidation and control. The prison was a microcosm of those communities. Stabbings and beat downs were the methods used to settle territory disputes. This is real!

To Be Continued…

Isaiah 25:6-9

.After returning back to our facility and feeling good about our contribution to Habitat For Humanity’s “Blitz Build” I was alerted by one of my tutors that all of the school’s tutors had been drug tested while I was away. Two of the newly hired Horticulture tutors tested positive for opiates. They were caught trying to hide “their works” (syringe, and needles) in the Greenhouse plants. My Principal had called me to the office. He informed me that the tutors who tested positive were fired, and I was responsible for making sure all the necessary paperwork be completed for his immediate signature. The wind was taken from my sails. They were good workers who hid their addiction but I was told later by our custody staff that it was not the first time for either of them. One of the tutors’ nick name was “Doc” and I needed to pay attention to what the inmates called each other. It was usually an indication of either their prison sentence, or what they were into. A prison moniker.

.I had directed my tutor helpers not to call my students by their prison nicknames. I wanted my classroom to be run professionally. My students were to be addressed by their surnames only. I had to admonish one of my tutors who called a student prisoner who only had one leg and used a walker “kick stand.” I could not believe the insensitivity. My helper tutor looked at me and informed me that “ole kickstand ” killed a family of four in a drunken car crash. His leg had to be amputated mangled beyond repair from the crash. He didn’t ‘give a shit’ about what he did and he planned on still drinking once he was released. I was informed that “he runs one of the best prison stills on this facility grounds, and has not been caught yet.” Indirectly he was telling me that my tutors insensitivity in using the student prisoners’ moniker was justified because of the current reality. That reality quickly changed when the “best still” on prison grounds was raided. My disabled student was charged in the making and distribution of contraband. He was found guilty and was sent to a higher security level. That meant he was immediately dropped from my class.

.I informed all my tutor helpers that I would appreciate it if they told me what my student’s nick names were, but I still want all my helpers to use my students last names accompanied by Mr. It was professional I thought. In later years I would have to drop the mister because I was not always sure that was the case. Without judgement, using the surname was much easier. I often ran into problems with prisoner names. I would have students who didn’t want their “prison name” on certificates of completion or their GED diplomas. They would claim that their prison name was an alias and their real name was something much different. I always referred them back to their original application. The name they put on that application was checked by our school secretary for admittance to the school. If it did not match the legal name they would not be admitted until the discrepancy was rectified.

.Even though we had safeguards in place concerning names I was told at a GED conference that a prisoner had used the name “Mickey Mouse.” When the school received the GED with that moniker they had no way of validating who Mickey Mouse was. The inmate was not happy. They informed us at the conference the school asked the GED testing service to eliminate the diploma. The inmate would have to test on all 5 subjects again using his legal name. The GED testing service had no way of validating he was “Mickey Mouse.” The instructor who administered the exams to “Mickey” was no longer working for the MDOC, and no one from the facility school would validate the prisoner’s claim of being “Mickey.” No one wanted to admit that his teacher let a name like “Mickey Mouse” register for the GED exam. The inmate could not prove he was Mickey Mouse, and the test was eliminated. He would have to test using his legal name. Prison Stories To Be Continued

Revelation 2:17

.We determined what our signature flower would be which identified us as a producer for the Habitat For Humanity Nursery. That nursery was established at my mentors’ facility. Our contribution, a perennial Hybrid Hibiscus. This plant would grow every year in our Northern climate. and would not have to be replanted. We had been growing them at our facility for over a three year experimental period. We learned much in the process and were able to decorate the level 1 and level 2 yards with them. They became the focal point of our landscape and donations. My mentor was happy to receive them for their nursery and he felt they were great landscape plants for Habitat For Humanity homes. My students were happy to grow them not always knowing what color they would be once propagated. I informed them that GOD was the artist and He would determine the colors. They smiled at that and quizzed me on my faith. I informed them that by His grace go I. The bad decisions I was making on a regular basis as a wild teenager could of landed me here. I was fortunate not to get caught. They laughed. I informed them that picking colors wasn’t all that He can do. They should try Him sometime. They may be surprised.

.The man we were growing these flowers for is a big proponent of His compassion, and understanding. I actually got to see our ex president Jimmy Carter and his wife Rosalynn walk down 25th street and Martin Luther King boulevard passing out bibles to the new Habitat for Humanity home buyers. I was invited by my mentor to participate in the “Blitz Build.” We were coordinating the landscaping. The prison Horticulture programs had grown trees, bushes, and perennials which were purchased by the home owners. We coordinated their delivery and planting. It was a major undertaking as 35 homes were constructed in a two week period hence the term, “Blitz Build” was most appropriate. I has a great experience there. The vacant lot we were staging the landscaping in had a number of mature mulberry trees that were full of fruit. When the neighborhood children found out that they could be eaten, I had stiff competition to see who could pick and eat the most mulberries. It wasn’t fair as they climbed the trees and picked handfuls of mulberries tossing them to their waiting friends. Better than candy.

.The secret service was always present at this build. You could tell because they wore headsets and they made sure the area was safe before our former president and wife entered it. He was genuine as was his wife. They shook all our hands, thanked us for volunteering and wanted to know what we thought of this “Blitz Build.” I found them to be the real deal and he blessed us for helping upon leaving. The noon bell went off and we were ushered to a large tented area were dignitaries from all walks of life ate with the likes of me and my peasant friends a most discernable lunch menu consisting of hotdogs, potato chips and pop. Listening to the laughter, and conversation made me aware that this was both a spiritual and uplifting experience for the participants. I was glad for the invitation to share in this unique camaraderie. After lunch we finished delivering our plants to the individual houses for planting. It made me feel good knowing the Prison Build and Horticulture Programs were being represented here as well as all of our students efforts in the final product, a well built home fully landscaped. I took pictures to share with them when I returned to my classroom. To Be Continued…. <Matthew 6: 25-34>

.The flowers for the yard had been grown in the greenhouse by my students and tutors. The production in the first year was incredible. Over 40,000 annuals, 20, 000 perennials and 10, 000 vegetable plants had been propagated and planted through out our facility. Donations were made of perennials and vegetable plants to our extension service, senior centers , and an area county hospital. The production looked promising even though we had been given a new name by our naysayers. “Camp candy land” was the unofficial name of our facility given to us by those who thought our program made this place “soft.” The Warden was happy as letters of thanks came to his office from our immediate community thanking him for all of our donations both plants and vegetables. I explained to him that it was the cooperation of the Resident Unit Managers, Assistant Resident Unit Managers, and officers who helped make sure my students were allowed to work where they were needed. They went out of their way to man the sally port so I could deliver all the donations. I felt this was really a team effort and there is no” I” in team. He needed to congratulate them as well. I was told he did thank all of them for supporting this program.

.When it became time to harvest the vegetable garden I was surprised to see about 10 prisoners who belonged to an outside group who supported urban Horticulture wanting a cut from the garden. They each had large duffle bags but were preempted from entering the garden by signs that read off limits. They immediately found me in the Greenhouse and wanted to know whether or not they could enter the garden and help with the harvest. “Help with harvest how?” I responded pointing at their luggage. I unfortunately had to inform them that they were not authorized to be in the garden or this Greenhouse. Only those with written details, my students and tutors, were allowed. I thanked them for offering to help, (though showing up with your personal duffel bags to “help harvest the garden”… ) but given the circumstances their request seemed disingenuous. They were not happy with my evaluation of their request to help. I even suggested that they take the class if they could meet the requirements.

.The Vocational School required applying students to have a GED or high school diploma. Students applying needed to be ticket free for the past year and stay ticket free during their enrollment. It was an incentive that worked in the beginning when it was being enforced. However, this would not be the case in future Education Administrations. The incentives to attend school would be diluted as well as the requirements for entry by Administrators who seemed to be directionless. This was not the case in the first years of harvest. The prison horticulture program donated garden produce to our local food banks, flowers to our area senior living facilities, house plants to our county hospital, and plants to our the Horticulture extension office. We got a lot of support from our Housing Unit managers and custody staff. Without that help the program would not be successful. We still had naysayers, but those supporting us outnumbered those who did not. Much like life, time changes everything. Need less to say, we would be eventually out numbered by naysayers. I never gave up hope as the social good we were producing through our work was always the reward. My students were focused and driven and I would not give up on them. They were what needed to be changed, and it was happening in a positive way. Law abiding citizens when they returned to society was always the goal. To Be Continued…