On The Inside

Melissa Daniels
EVWP Summer 2009


“I’ve missed you!” I exclaim, giving Tayvon a side hug. “It’s so good to have you back.”

“Did you see my grades?” he asks, sheepishly hiding his obvious pride.

“All A’s and a 95 in English!” I give him another pat on the back. “I used to volunteer at a detention center in Williamsburg. It’s a tough place and hard to keep your grades up in there. I’m proud of you.”

“Really, Ms. Daniels? I can’t picture you at a detention center.”

********************************************************************

“You’re wearing shorts,” Kate states matter-of-factly, but the implication is that I have no clue what I am doing.

Bottling up my irritation that Kate is gawking at my naiveté, I say, “Yeah. That was dumb” in my self-deprecating manner. I force a smile, and the tension dissipates.

There’s a security camera outside a double set of glass doors. We hear the first set of doors latch before the second automatically open, an extra precaution to ensure inmates do not escape. On the right we sign in and gather a lock.

My few identifiers – change purse, id card, and keys tumble into a small plastic container. I spin the knob on the front of the locker to be sure no one can open it.

Then, we go through the metal detectors. All clear. Another buzz. Through one heavy set of metal doors. Again we secure the first set before we are allowed to go through the second.

A chipper round face greets us. Like a kindergarten teacher, she has the afternoon snack cart. “You’re wearing shorts,” she observes without judgment. She reminds me of Sister Mary Patrick from Sister Act. Even my lack of proper attire does not discourage her.

Acknowledging my fault, “Yeah,” I reply.

“We can give you something to wear. Or, you can wait outside and meet up with the others afterwards,” she offers.

Without hesitation, “I’ll wear whatever, and I’m so sorry.” She’s not upset, and her kind acceptance makes me regret my forgetfulness.

A female security guard directs me down a hall and through yet another set of doors off to the right. I notice the others heading into the open quad structure with different units – co-ed, boys, and girls.

I enter a back room with the guard. To the left sits a metal shelf with identical plastic tubs and a shower curtain on a metal rod, used for strip searches. Artificial lights cast a yellowish film over the room, a cheap replacement for the windows. Everything is sterile.

From one of the tubs, the guard pulls out a gray jump suit. “Change here.” She points to a single bathroom.

I’m in and out in about thirty seconds. But I’m starting to feel it. My identity is leaving. In that gray jumpsuit, I look like those coal miners in October Sky – lifeless. And, I see the cups on the wall and directions to provide urine for a drug test.

I imagine what it must be like to arrive at the center. First you undergo a strip search that invades your privacy. Next, you lose your identity with a gray jumpsuit. Finally, you take the drug test, and every ounce of trust you once knew leaves. Reduced, you file into line with other inmates – indistinguishable.

As I shudder back to reality, the guard nods. She leads me down the hall into the quad.

The cheerful cart lady greets me with a smile. “Want to go into the co-ed unit today?”

I nod.

After leading me through more metal doors, she whispers something to the guard about me.

Inside a nurse is talking to the kids about sexual health. I slide into a chair at a table with three boys.

“What’cha in fer?” one boy asks.

It takes me a second to think about what to say. “I’m a volunteer, but I wore the wrong clothes today.”

“Oh.” He smiles.

I say, “Yeah, this is kind of comfortable though. I had no idea. I’m going to see if I can borrow one.” We all laugh.

A nudge from a boy at another table. “What’cha in fer?”

I grin at the boys at my table, a knowing smirk crossing all of our faces.

“Well…” I hesitate.

“Yer the new gal ain’t yuh? So what’cha in fer?” he repeats.

I tell the truth. Now several boys are sharing a group smile, glad to know the secret.

Meanwhile the nurse up front jabbers. Mostly blank stares look back at her. She doesn’t realize it – just goes right through. She’s trying – hoping to relate to the kids, talking like them, telling jokes. Then she’s passing out brochures and sheets. We’re still smiling.

“Let’s play cards,” one of the guys at my table suggests as the nurse packs up her stuff.

“Ok.” I sit and chat with them about stuff – their stuff. We’re like a group of buddies laughing as we play “Slap Jack”. A few others lean over; they can’t pull up chairs. Only four allowed at a table.

“Yuh want one?” One of the guys holds up a piece of his Kit Kat, chocolate residue on his fingers.

“It’s ok,” I say. “How did you get that?”

“Well, it’s like this. Yuh do what’cha ‘pose ta do, and yuh move up in levels. The higher the level the better the snack you kin get. I ain’t fixin’ ta get in any trouble ‘round here, so I get me some good snacks,” he explains.

Time passes.

The unit warden announces dinner, and the kids line up. Hands behind backs. One of the guys whispers…”Why don’t yuh come with us to dinner? Get in line. Let’s see if they notice.”

“Put yer hands like this.” One kid shows me.

When we get out of the unit door, I slip out of line. The guys look disappointed, thinking I’ve abandoned our plan, which I have.

“Hey, Woah!! In line now,” a guard barks at me.

“Oh, sorry.” I hop in line again, and the guys are stifling their laughter by biting their lower lips.

“Just come to dinner with us,” one whispers.

So, I go ahead. I’m almost feeling nauseated at the smell of frozen chicken nuggets, pizza, and fries. After finding a seat with my new friends, I start to chatter.

“Silence.” A guard comes over. Now the guys are dying in laughter. They love seeing me get in trouble.

“Sorry. We forgot to tell yuh; it’s a silent dinner,” one says.

As we sit in silence, the humor of this situation is still present.

“Hey, your group is waiting for you.” The pleasant lady is motioning to me.

The guard looks on incredulously. “I’m sorry,” he says curtly.

The guys are laughing too hard. Giving them a directed smile and laugh, I get up and walk past the guard.

“Not a problem. You didn’t know,” I say.

I wave good-bye to my new friends.

Back through the hallway and into my shorts. I walk through the sets of metal doors one at a time then into the lobby and sign out.

“You’re wearing your shorts,” says Kate.

“Yeah. One of the best decisions of my life,” I say.

She doesn’t get it. I smile to myself after glancing at her confused face.

********************************************************************
So we play “Two Truths and a Lie” in Tayvon’s class. I go first. “I have been in the West Wing. I have a cat. And I’ve worn a prison uniform.”

“Well, she definitely has a cat,” one kid laughs.

I don’t have a cat, but that’s ok.

“Yeah, brah, but a prison uniform…Ms. Daniels?”

“Nah, brah, she’s been to Merrimac. I think that one’s true,” Tayvon pipes up.

“How’d you end up in a prison uniform, girl?” One kid calls out from the back of the room.

I scowl. “We’re not doing the ‘girl’ thing, remember? I don’t like that.”

“Yeah, yeah, ah-ight Ms. Daniels.”

“But, I will let you in on that story,” I say.

I start, “Well, I guess you’re not supposed to wear shorts when you volunteer at a detention center.”

They laugh.

“Yeah, I know.” I laugh too at my own innocence. “But I’d wear them again.”