Back to main index

Back to Christina's main page

August 7, 2007

A Day in Prison

It's not exactly accurate to say that I work in a prison, although that's often the most convenient (and salient!) description for inquiring acquaintances. Most of the time, I do work in the air-conditioned office of Destiny Productions in the commercial district of New Kingston. Destiny is my supervisor Kevin's other full-time job--it's a production company with about 5 friendly employees, a recording studio, and, as usual with Kevin, far too much to do. Given that Kevin has so far been the only person working full-time on the organization, SET necessarily shares office space with Destiny, so it is here that my roommate/coworker Larisa and I have found cushy armchairs to work from.

However, three days a week the team visits one or more of the prisons, and the illusion that I have a normal summer job totally disappears. I'll run you through one of these days.

Typically, even when we are going in for the morning, we make a pit stop at the office. Internet-addicted as I am, I need to check my email in the morning like caffeine-addicts need coffee, so this is a good thing. It also gives us an opportunity to pick up any supplies we might need for the trip. Then, the crew piles in and we head down.

On Wednesdays, Tower St. is our first stop. Getting through security is no small feat. Even though we've been there countless times before and Kevin has been doing the SET thing for 7 years now, they still always make a big fuss of recording our names in this huge tome. Every single time we visit, they 1) confiscate our cell phones, 2) ask if we are carrying firearms, and 3) laugh at how my name is spelled. When we are finally cleared and an escorting officer is found, we are led past the gates and young guards with machine guns to the inside of the prison.

I always have to take a deep breath before entering the walls of the prison. Women aren't very common in here, and so my coworker and I are always a little too popular. Catcalls rain down thick and heavy as soon as we enter the gates. They don't make me uncomfortable anymore, but acknowledgment that I've heard any of them is seen as encouragement so I studiously stare in front of me at no one in particular and make a beeline for SET's computer lab where we do most of our work.

Inside the lab is a totally different vibe. We meet with the inmates, who I get to know a little better each time. Many of the inmates we work with are funny, smart, and genuinely seem interested in changing their lives for the better. They give us reports of recent happenings in the prisons and, usually, flood us with requests for more learning resources--truly music to my ears. SET focuses on allowing the inmates to teach each other, so the inmates really take pride in their learning. Compared to the vacant stares outside, these inmates are full of energy. Generally, we sit in on meetings that they plan--review of the last week's activities are discussed, issues with the maintenance of the radio station are brought up and, usually, resolved.

On a really good day, we get some time to talk to the inmates. Listening to them discuss Jamaican politics and even just analyze issues in the prison is one of my favorite experiences. Occasionally, we even get to hear them play music or see them create art. It's really an eye-opening experience to see how articulate and insightful some of these inmates that Jamaican society has largely given up on really are. It reminds me of why prison rehabilitation is so important.

Just an example of how excited the inmates are about rehabilitation: a week after SET FM went online, one of the inmates handed us a t-shirt. It had been hand-painted by one of the artistically-talented inmates, and the design had been conceptualized by another inmate: hands clasped together over the Jamaican colors of red, gold, and green. The entire work was created without any outside prompting, and it was the more beautiful because it showed how proud the inmates were of their own radio station.

On the way out, we see the prison's totally uninspiring motto painted over an arch: "Motto: None Shall Escape." It's from the prison's older days, when rehabilitation wasn't in the picture at all. Nowadays, rehabilitation is more important, but still isn't taken as seriously as it could be. More about our adventures with bureaucracy next time!