Lockdown.

The facility is on lockdown.  Class is cancelled.  I'M crushed so I can't even imagine how the guys feel locked in their cells for an undetermined amount of time - sometimes hours, sometimes days.  The guys had an inkling this lockdown was going to take place.  Evidently there are periodic long-term lockdowns to "turn the place upside down." R had it marked on his calendar of it having taken place at this time last year.  (No comment on the fact that R is STILL awaiting trial a year later, nor that he logged the date of a facility lockdown.)

I'm more than a little disappointed.  All week I wait.  Mondaaaaaay.  Tuesdaaaaaaaay.  Wednesdaaaaaaaaay arrives and I'm getting excited because I have to submit my "lesson plans" to my supervisor and the deputy warden.  Truth be told, the lesson plans are perfunctory and more of a exercise in due diligence.  One of the conditions of my return was to submit plans weekly.  As I don't wish to have the class derailed for a second time, I am happy to comply with such a simple request.  Besides, just sending the short email with the ideas for the evening gets me thinking about the boys in the box - not that they are ever too far from my mind, really.

Thursday finally arrives.  My friends, my colleagues my (day job) students - everybody knows it's Thursday.  There must be a little spring in my step because I know I'm going to jail.  Funny, right?  And still I have to wait.  Wait for the right hour to leave to avoid the worst of the traffic.  Wait in the reception area of the facility for my supervisor to escort me to the gym.  Wait for the guys to be called down from the blocks.  Those who know me well would not put my name in the "patient" column (at least not when the word is used as an adjective; the noun - that's a whole other story!), but it is worth it when the guys stroll into the gym with their folders under their arms or in their hands or in their waistbands or...  Good, I think.  At least they look like they're prepared for class, a feat my 9th-grade boys have yet to master.  It's exciting.  And inspiring.  

So I have to wonder (though I think I can guess the answer as some have alluded to it): if this is how I feel about going to teach at a correctional facility, how must it be for the participants in the class?  Sure, it's time off the tiers and out of their cells, away from the clamor that is their daily existence (even at night from what I understand), but it also seems to be a time to be taken seriously, as people who still want to matter.

Boys, I'm on vacation next week so I can't say, "See you next week." I will, however, be rarin' to go in a fortnight.  Make sure you are, too, eh?  You have a big assignment due: the final draft of your essay that I will include in my correspondence to the powers that be.  Don't let me down.  Better yet, don't let yourselves down.

See you in two weeks.