Writing and Razorwire

After being strip-searched and sitting naked in solitary, I was afforded some time to ponder exactly what I was doing in prison. During my "adult time-out," I interacted with numerous inmates who all shared a near universal truth; none of them expected to be there. Some of us were victims of our own sheer hubris, while the vast majority had exercised exceedingly poor judgment at some point. I was no different.

Luckily for many of us, a day of reckoning dawns affording us some level of progressive insight. One thing prison provides you is significant amount of time to connect with your thoughts. Outstanding author and formerly “justice impaired individual” Piper Kerman has talked at length about her prison experience, brought to life in Orange is The New Black. She has often stated that prison isn’t exactly a bastion of “silver linings.” It is, however, a place for you to reconsider life choices. For an extremely lucky few, it is a chance to find a new direction.

A prison library is the closest you get to achieving freedom of any sort while incarcerated. Books are an integral part of your existence. In many instances, they become a form of currency, with selective books disappearing from the library and being “locked away” in private collections in cells. Given the difficulty in acclimating to the new environment, books, and on a deeper level, writing, was the most legitimate and tangible form of escape.

They were also lifelines to the outside world, as well as a way of providing an identity or sense of self. At first, it would seem masochistic to read books that were first-account narratives of other incarcerated individuals. But it was about the shared experience and the ability to relate to a common existence. To see a vision of yourself from the outside looking in. I learned this more and more as I talked with my fellow inmates. One common theme was repeated; everyone had a story inside of them that they needed to share.

While I can’t say I found my purpose, I did find my voice. There were numerous stories I felt trapped inside of me that I ached to put down on paper when I was on the outside, yet the “real world” interfered with my endeavors. Now I had nothing BUT time, along with notebooks and Bic pens.

Even if the equivalent mental masturbation was akin to throwing spaghetti at the walls and seeing what stuck, I threw myself into my writing. Eventually, every free moment that wasn’t spent in the gym’s gladiator academy, was spent writing.

Specific, repetitive behaviors attract attention from fellow inmates. Between teaching G.E.D. classes, and constantly scribbling in my notebooks, they referred to me as, “Professor.” This inspired me on a level I hadn't anticipated. I approached a few of the guys in my G.E.D. classes who had taken an interest in my writing, to gauge their interest in hearing a story or two.

When you put yourself out here in prison, receiving approval on any level is a status/cred builder. It means as transitory and mindless as life is on the inside, it may get a bit easier.

The more I read my stories, the more invigorated and enthused I became. At the same time, guys shyly hinted they had stories as well. It wasn’t the true “epiphany” moment I had prayed for. I hadn't suddenly found my purpose and was ready to rebuild my life.

But it was a start.

I petitioned the Prison Education Officer, and they granted my request to begin teaching a creative writing class. The initial uptake was slow; anything seen as showing vulnerability or exposing yourself in some manner was frowned upon and made you a target for bullying. Within weeks, I had roughly a dozen regulars, which grew over time.

Without any formal training, I drew upon my now worthless $250k liberal arts degree and began “teaching.” The approach was simple; just get guys writing. The focus was on my favorite format, “flash fiction.” Prison life revolves around structure and strict rules. It was something that they could relate to. You are given a theme, an object or two, and a strict word count. Prison is about conformity to the rules, so flash fiction was instantly relatable. At times, classes were handled like an improv group, with guys shouting out story ideas, and me acting as the scribe and pushing along the narrative. Developing a level of comfort and trust was all that mattered.

We then turned the focus to individual stories. The themes initially involved present-day, readily available objects or locations on the prison compound so it would be easy to understand. As comfort levels built, stories became more personalized. Longings for previous lives and the outside world. Untethered lifelines were at once being reconnected.

This was when I saw the true power of the written word, and the ability to find some path to redemption.

On paper, a beef from an old neighborhood could be settled. Abusive fathers were either forgiven or called out. There was a constant yearning to see life in technicolor once again; anything beyond the drab khakis and institutional-grey colored walls was a recurring theme.

Above all else, there was hope. There were sparks of life. Both of these can be extraordinarily dangerous drugs in prison, especially when a calendar is the only true harbinger of progress. The universal truth was every man had something inside, a voice they needed to get out. Many of these folks are the disappeared herd, the voiceless. All of them contained an inner monologue that needed to be aired without judgment or condemnation.

Once the constraints were lifted, there was a release.

Since I have been out, I have had multiple short stories published in various literary magazines, as well as here on Vocal. Several have been nominated and received domestic and international awards. I am currently the Writer-In-Residence for The Adirondack Review and have recently acquired a saint of an agent who is helping me edit my debut novel as well as a television pilot.

If you believe you have something inside you, never tell yourself it is too late to make that gift a reality. You never know what path will lead you to redemption; I'm just thrilled mine is through the power of the written word.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------Please enjoy all of my other stories on Vocal and follow me on Twitter @thedutchsimmons and on my webpage thedutchsimmons.com

I promise... I'm moderately entertaining!