MyTimeToBlog
The moment I said WTF, my celly and I had a great conversation about why I said that. It started over a book I began reading a few days ago: Corrections in Ink by Keri Blakinger. Her memoir about struggling through living on the streets, abusing drugs, then finding her purpose through the broken justice system while incarcerated had me hooked...until I read her prostitute story.
The moment I read about that I shouted WTF! This young girl at seventeen shook my soul on what she had done. I'm automatically complaining about her upper-middle-class life, and all the blessings she had with a two-parent home, and training to be a figure skater. I placed myself in her shoes and thought that if I had what she did, my life would be different, better. Now I conveyed this to my celly and he woke me up to how wrong I was on what I expressed.
You see, Ms. Blakinger's life story was hers, not mine. So, what she dealt with by going out and becoming a prostitute was her choice, due to how she dealt with her drug addiction, and emptiness as her career as a figure dismantled before her eyes. I felt ashamed but also awakened by how I perceived things.
You see, I read numerous stories about incarcerated individuals who had the tragedy to triumphant narrative. Now as I've read them, I always did what I shouldn't: I placed myself in their shoes. I felt at times they didn't share their truths. Why? Sadly, I felt they were not being completely transparent.
Again, my feet were in their shoes, not my own. What I've endured through the decades of incarceration was not like what they experienced. I had violent encounters that made me think if you'd done time like me, you'd experienced similar situations. I was utterly wrong, and I'm sorry for that.
The moment I said WTF, my celly and I had a great conversation about why I said that. It started over a book I began reading a few days ago: Corrections in Ink by Keri Blakinger. Her memoir about struggling through living on the streets, abusing drugs, then finding her purpose through the broken justice system while incarcerated had me hooked...until I read her prostitute story.
The moment I read about that I shouted WTF! This young girl at seventeen shook my soul on what she had done. I'm automatically complaining about her upper-middle-class life, and all the blessings she had with a two-parent home, and training to be a figure skater. I placed myself in her shoes and thought that if I had what she did, my life would be different, better. Now I conveyed this to my celly and he woke me up to how wrong I was on what I expressed.
You see, Ms. Blakinger's life story was hers, not mine. So, what she dealt with by going out and becoming a prostitute was her choice, due to how she dealt with her drug addiction, and emptiness as her career as a figure dismantled before her eyes. I felt ashamed but also awakened by how I perceived things.
You see, I read numerous stories about incarcerated individuals who had the tragedy to triumphant narrative. Now as I've read them, I always did what I shouldn't: I placed myself in their shoes. I felt at times they didn't share their truths. Why? Sadly, I felt they were not being completely transparent.
Again, my feet were in their shoes, not my own. What I've endured through the decades of incarceration was not like what they experienced. I had violent encounters that made me think if you'd done time like me, you'd experienced similar situations. I was utterly wrong, and I'm sorry for that.
I couldn't see prison any other way, here in Virginia, or the many other states that housed my comrades. Violence is a part of being incarcerated, but it's not the main theme. That is where those stories of individuals who fought to be more than their worst, in circumstances that forced them to find their greatness, and allowed that to shine beyond those bars of steel. I missed out on that aspect of prison life because the trauma of nearly being sexually assaulted and numerous violent encounters altered the way I have seen things.
I'm grateful that I shouted WTF in my cell because I could still be isolated in my small thinking, missing out on the fact that everybody's circumstances were unique. Thankfully my eyes are opened now because really looking within myself, I recognized that I'm still dealing with my traumatic past.
Before I close out this article, I again wish to apologize to Ms. Keri Blakinger and the many others whose stories I read. I'm a work in progress, but also willing to still be taught that all our stories matter because they can help us see that we can become more than our worst.
Have you ever done the walk-a-mile in someone else's shoe thinking? If so, take your feelings and experiences out of it and understand that those who dealt with something life-changing fought to get where they are now. We all can be so blessed to do the same.