this morning, i visited my sister over at the women's correctional facility in kailua. it was good to see her. we spoke about everything, and nothing in particular... a lot of things about family. i got some snatches about life in prison, but all i really needed to do was look up at this rectangle of sky above me, surrounded on all sides by dorms and other buildings, to get this sense of bounded desperation.
my sister seemed a lot more self-aware and strong than before. for one thing, she told me she hardly befriended anyone in prison, at least, not to the point of truly opening up with anyone, because she knew that everyone wanted something from her. she said that it was true of the world outside of the prison as well, but within the confines of the prison fences, that desperation and need was so much more close and obvious... she also spoke about how people in prison tend to do the stupidest things (she was definitely not exempt), that, to put it in her words, "the elevator doesn't go all the way up." she mentioned about how one of the girls in the bridge program (a program where a prisoner can go to work in the outside world, and then check in to prison afterwards) didn't return last night; she only had 2 more months to go, but not returning automatically meant that she would get 5 more years. if it was by choice, it was a pretty stupid choice...
i left feeling kind of blah. i love my sister, even though i don't really show it much. i wish things could be back the way it was... the world looks at my sister and probably doesn't see anything special. but there was a time when we were so close, and there was such a beautiful spirit in her, a strong spirit. i can still see it within her, in the way that she is so open with me... but it is confined by these circumstances, by her bad past choices...
"i'll be the judge of that." really? people are not in any role to judge anything... the world is so- opaque. opaque and transparent at the same time. opaque because everyone has a secret something concealed beneath their faces and their circumstances. transparent because everyone has a secret something concealed beneath their faces and their circumstances. it is not something so positive as hope, but it has something ordinary and natural about it, something which i think is essential to being human. if you feel it, and see it, then you can despair when people turn their backs on it, but you can never deny it... yes, that was one impression i had, the lot of us, visitors and prisoners, all sitting on chairs that lined the edges of this blank rectangle of concrete and asphalt... we looked like we were all there, having some sort of large family gathering or something. when you looked at people, speaking about family, crying, smiling, laughing, hugging, you would not know that you were in a prison. it was just people trying to feel a sense of normalcy again.
