“I have friends in overalls whose friendship I would not swap for the favor of the kings of the world.” (Thomas A. Edison)
The incarceration experience for my ex-husband included meeting new people and making new friends. Yes, they were dressed in the only fashion acceptable for inmates–aka. orange jumpsuits–but learning about some of them completely changed my perspective of prison and many of those who reside there. They don’t fit Hollywood stereotypes; they shattered my expectations. (Prepare yourself. I’m about to expose my ignorance.)
When he first was taken into custody, one of the deputies talked to him about the “average” inmate. He said the jail had all types of men, who had committed all types of crimes, but that “most are just average ‘Joes’ that messed up.” I confess I’d never thought of criminals in that way before–as average people who had made mistakes.
He met an inmate with three college degrees. I had probably assumed, too often, that people commit crimes because they lack education and training for legal employment–that crime is all they’ve witnessed and known so that is what they do. Not true in all cases.
Sometimes I could even relate to their bad luck. Several of the stories I heard took my thoughts back to my teens and the dumb things teenagers sometimes do without thinking beyond the moment. I pictured kids I knew as a teenager, maybe even my brothers, doing similar things–only to a lesser degree. Here’s one friend’s story: He stole an unmarked police vehicle by mistake. In the process of messing with the wires he turned on the flashing lights, unbeknownst to the driver. The man’s friend, driving the other car, tried to catch up to the stolen car and let him know what had happened but the man thought his friend wanted to race–so he sped up. A state patrolman coming the other direction flashed his lights at him, thinking it was a cop who just forgot to turn his flashers off! The man got caught and went to jail.
The most eye opening thing I learned about his new friends, however, wasn’t really anything new it was simply something I’d forgotten as I lived a law abiding life on “the outside.” That is, even gangsters have hearts.
Despite the white collar nature of my ex-husband’s crimes, he was incarcerated with infamous criminals, well-known in all circles, including the media. For that reason, he never shared their names with us. But what stunned me, was how these notorious gangsters were so kind to an older man. After all, he was the age of their fathers. They introduced themselves to him, shook his hand, introduced him to others and told him, “If anyone gives you trouble, just let us know and we’ll take care of it.” (But no one ever bothered him.) They invited him to exercise with them. They showed him the ropes of life on “the inside.” They talked, played games and got to know one another. Yet despite their kindness, they were tough men. He never saw anyone cry or show emotion.
And then one day, my ex-husband lost it. The consequences of his choices hit him and said he felt them deeper than they ever had before. He cried. He had never seen any show of emotion in the jail and was mortified that he couldn’t help himself or stop himself from the flood of tears. In such confined space, there is nowhere to go and nowhere to hide, so everyone witnessed his grief. As he shared the experience, I don’t know what I expected the reaction might have been; my imagination conjured up many different scenarios, none of them sympathetic, all of them included my ex-husband getting beat up for being a sissy. But here is what really happened.
Everyone left him alone. They didn’t hassle him. They gave him his space. And not one inmate made fun of him, shunned him or beat him up for his weakness. In fact, during the most express moment of anguish and grief, the “biggest, baddest gangster of them all” came quietly to my ex-husband’s bunk, put a hand on his shoulder, told him everything would be o.k., and that he had a friend and was there for him if he ever wanted to talk about it.
That touched me.
I don’t know who the man really was, but I named him Mr. C. (“C” for compassion. I envision him looking like the infamous Mr. T of the old “A-Team” show, so basically I just changed the consonant in his name!) We need more Mr. Cs in the world, don’t we? More friends, more people with compassion and more people who choose to be there for for each of us, “outside” or in the slammer, when our unexpected life or its ramifications overwhelms us.
I know I’ve needed that and have been blessed by those who have shown compassion toward me and my children.
I don’t think I’ll ever look at criminals in the same way again. And it’s my unexpected life that gave me a different view.
“Deep down even the most hardened criminal is starving for the same thing that motivates the innocent baby: Love and acceptance.”(Lily Fairchilde)
That’s a beautiful post. What a well said quote from Fairchilde, and one I’ll log away in my mind. Silver linings come unexpectedly and sometimes in disguise amid the turbulent skies.
Thanks. And as always, your comments are unforgettable. I love your thought about silver linings.
Love this post!!! It confirms things I’ve felt, but never known much about. I’ve been told I view the world with rose colored glasses when I say that I feel love for everyone, even the worst of criminals. I have always felt that every human being, no matter how messed up their lives might be, deserves love and forgiveness. (That doesn’t mean you put yourself in a position to be hurt or abused by them, but that you can feel sorry for them and pray for them and hope for them to find peace and joy in their lives.) We all make mistakes, yet I know that we all have potential and that God loves us. I choose to believe there is always hope because of our Savior. Thanks for sharing this, Andrea!
I think rose-colored glasses gives a pretty charitable view…and I believe we’re to have charity toward everyone.:) Thanks for your comment.
I love this post! As my husband and I worked in the foster care system it changed my whole perspective as well. I am not nearly as judgmental and ignorant of the hurt that many of the parents themselves have experienced in their lives that led them to do what they did. I cried with many of them as they battled a life time of hurts or a few mistakes that led to other mistakes. In one case..the whole team of DA, lawyers, foster parents, social workers etc. cried as a woman relinquished her rights to her children because she loved them so much she didn’t want them to live through what she had lived through and she just couldn’t bring herself out of that life. Who are we to judge? How can we help another?
Your post reminds me of the words to a song that my daughters sang in church a few weeks ago. One verse says: “His life is sad, for he is held in a grey and lonely prison cell. Year after year behind dark walls. Don’t know his crime, but I know this much, It’s really not for me to judge. That’s God’s domain as I recall. And the only thing that God expects of me….is to willingly forgive as He’s forgiven me, and bless my brother in his need. Lord help me love the least of these. Help me to go where they light leads me. Give me a heart that sees another’s need, and love to share with the least of these..For in their faces I believe that I can see a chance for me to show my love for thee.
It is so amazing that some of the most hardened and hurt can be the most sensitive and caring…and show that love to others. Maybe it is because they have been there…and all they needed was a friend with love to share.
Thank you for sharing your story and your perspective. One of the most important things I’ve been reminded of in the last couple of years is something I was taught as a child–don’t judge others. And forgive. Forgive everyone. I love how individuals can be a lot of things–a criminal, but compassionate. I love seeing that there is good in everyone, regardless of choices they make.
You know in my study of crime (I’m a Criminology Major), there are so many more reasons for crime to occur than what the media presents. The truth is as you pointed out most criminals are regular people who made some mistakes, of course there are some theorists who reference that it isn’t the person’s actions who are wrong but that the law is written to make those individual’s actions wrong. It’s a different perspective than we’ve been taught. As the saying goes those in power will do whatever they can to maintain that power, so aside from the obvious laws against murder, etc. many of the laws are written to maintain the balance of power.
Thank you for sharing what you know about crime. I certainly had NO education in any of it–until my unexpected life. I’ve learned the hard way, from life, that there is more than the Hollywood perspective. However, I am thankful for the laws that keep us as safe as they can from the wrong choices of others–although I guess in some cases (or arguable all) what is wrong is determined by the law.
My dad’s a smalltown lawyer and he does a bit of everything including some criminal defense. Some people just make mistakes, some just don’t learn from them, and some are in fact the troublemakers we all hear about.
I’m glad your ex found a little compassion after everything that’s happened. After all, he did turn himself in at last. That has to count for something.
VERY TRUE.
Andrea,
I have watched your story on 9 News with heartfelt interest! Your children are amazing.
My son committed a white collar crime and will be released from prison very soon. He has been there for 18 months, and is ready to go forward with his life. This was a stop he needed in life, and I am so proud of how well he has done.
I truly believe he will be a better person because of this.
My visits to him, while there, really opened my eyes to prison and incarceration. Yes, I believe we need more Mr C’s in life.
I wish you all the best in your journey.
God Bless
Thank you for reading, commenting and sharing your story. I am grateful your son has a mother who loves him and supports him and has visited him. Best wishes to him as he rebuilds his life. I do believe we can change, learn what we need to, and become even better. I am rooting for your son! Thanks for sharing your wonderful perspective.