In the letters I’ve received from women incarcerated across the country a theme has emerged. When I think about it I should have seen it ahead of time because it’s no different from what us men go through. Yet I imagined that somehow incarceration is different for them, that perhaps it’s happier.” Maybe,” I used to think, “that they don’t suffer from the same things that us men sometimes do. Maybe they don’t struggle with feelings of shame and failure or hope that someone at home will answer the phone. Maybe things are different.”
As a man, I’ve sometimes thought of how I have failed. If I had a family of my own these feelings would only magnify to include feelings of failure as a parent. I know this would be true, because I witness the longing and struggle guys around me go through as they try to remain a part of their children’s lives. In some ways I’m thankful not to have these problems, but in others I long for what could have been.
Today’s essay is by Tara Snyder, of whom is incarcerated at the Ohio Reformatory for Women. Her ability to put these truths to the written word grabbed me from the moment I read her essay. These are the things we prisoners experience and struggle with. They are universal, no matter your gender or where you are incarcerated.
Next of kin. Sign here, my case manager points, and I’ll notarize. At 34 years old I’ve never really put a lot of thought into what would happen when I die. But I suppose I never put a lot of thought about coming to prison for 4 years either “ until now.”
As days turn into weeks and weeks pass into months you realize just because your life stops upon coming to prison, no one else’s does.