Even after 40 years in prison, I want to share today that I still pray that my journey toward reclaiming a life is not in vain. I’ve made a difference in the people’s lives here, and a lot of the programs that I’m over, but I have to admit that today it takes a lot of strength to keep persevering and hold on to hope. I know many incarcerated lifers —that’s what they call us — we’ve lived in remorse, true repentance, rehabilitation, and we’ve risen to a level of inherent worth and potential that transcends our current circumstances. We really have. Our communities not only need, but they want us out there. We can bring growth, transformation, knowledge through experience, and positive contributions out there. We’ve done the inner resolve work; we’ve been determined. We’ve confronted our pasts, while we’ve embraced the journey of a possible brighter future. No, I’m not saying all of us. But we’re asking our nation and our states to recognize those of us who have.
And I once read an article where researchers performed an experiment about hope, to determine the effect hope has on people that are going through hardships, or even animals. So, it was odd to read that in this research they had two sets of lab rats. And they were both placed in separate tubs of water. One set was left in the water constantly, and it drowned within an hour. The other set was lifted out of the water every now and then. Those rats swam for 24 hours. I’d ask myself why — and I don’t believe it’s because they got a rest period every now and then — I believe it’s because they had hope. Each day and each time they were lifted they stayed afloat just a little longer, thinking maybe someone would reach down and rescue ’em. And if hope can be that strong in an unthinking rodent, how much stronger can it be in our lives?
I’ve clinged [sic] to stay afloat for over 40 years. I’m living with my mistakes, despair, hurts and discouragement. Others who have floated on a positive path, also. We’re asking for someone to reach down and rescue us. Many of us were sentenced from the 1980s, where legislation was designed to increase prison stays and long sentences. Now we’re on a new journey to death by incarceration, and in the 21st century, excessive sentences have decreased a lot. So, we need states to adopt second-look laws. Are we journeying in vain in our criminal justice system?
I know judges wear black robes with a plaque behind them that reads, “In God We Trust.” Really? I know another man in black that my mother used to love, Johnny Cash. He was called ‘The Man in Black.’ And the lyrics of his song was, “I wear black for the prisoner who has long paid for their crime, and for those who never read the words Jesus said.” “In God We Trust” means second chances, and faith is founded in forgiveness. Give us that second look. Give us a second chance to journey with our communities, and educate those. Educate them about the mistakes we made, and the scars that we have in our lives. This is Karen, and I pray that you’ll journey with me.
These commentaries are recorded by Prison Radio.
