TROUBLED

A young man sat on the steps in the day room chanting confidence, strength, and God over and over. He was having a mental break, and it took us a month to finally understand something was off with him.

You see, a month ago he was very outgoing, working out, doing Bible study every weekend, and walking laps around the yard like everyone else. He and I even spoke on occasion about his faith. I enjoyed engaging with him about that, sports and the number one topic we all love: getting free.

This was his second incarceration, and as such, he discussed how he didn't do anything in his previous bid but write rap songs--that's it. Upon having that revelation, he decided to build himself up in his faith walk; attending church, having Bible study, not cursing, and only singing Christian songs. He embodied what most called a Bible Thumper (an incarcerated man who found new meaning through faith worship).

As he began this new walk in life, he engaged everybody with his welcoming smile. He would say excuse me when attempting to attain who was next in line for the microwave. He acknowledged you with a God bless you. The new man he worked on shined brightly.

His work life was that of a woodshop worker. He would get up at five in the morning and return to the housing unit at two in the afternoon. He did this every day, for months. Even his coworkers shared that he did his job well, and always preached the gospel.

This was a young man working on his second shot at becoming a grown man. I watched it play out numerous times with other men, but as I did, I tended to take note of those individuals who wanted to be men but fell short. How? Drugs. Anger issues. Not seeking the proper guidance. Never forgiving themselves. You name it, the list was endless.

That's why when you saw this young man working on his life, you smiled. You understood the hardship of being in a cage, and realizing, not once, but twice you placed yourself there for not doing the work.

I never had what he'd lost (freedom) for a second time, but I worked daily to make it so. This was my choice. I desired more than a rap sheet stating my shortcomings. Plus, and I meant it then and I mean it now: I gotta show that I'm more than my worst. For the victims, and myself. So, getting up each day and proving that to myself is a challenge.

Now the young man, as the days trickled away, became lost in the prison shuffle. He did the same routine over and over, and because of that, nobody paid attention anymore. His outlook was bettering himself, while the majority did the opposite. So there were no discussions on rehabilitation, only on who did you pick on the parlay for this week's games?

When you're walking a line that very few attempted, you become isolated in your own creation. It's not out of disrespect, just a man searching for his purpose. I've experienced it a few times in my incarceration, and it'll continue to be just that as I work on becoming more.

The only problem with that was if you had a hiccup along the way: how would you deal with it? Me, I had a group of men and women who shared their viewpoints on how to get back on track. The young man didn't. He just retreated back into his old habits.

The problem with that was the despair he suffered from being back to his old ways. He self-isolated. One day he strolled right passed me and said nothing. It occurred on the second, third and fourth day. Now you would think we had a relationship where I could ask what was wrong...but his demeanor changed as well. He just stopped talking, completely.

I didn't take offense, nor did I pester him as to why he'd grown quiet. Everybody did their time their own way. Besides, he didn't start doing anything violent, nor was he acting out. He just remained quiet. Now as the days passed, I questioned his celly as to why the young man stopped talking. The celly said he didn't know, and that the young man just did him. Meaning he focused on himself. So I let it go, and focused on my situation...which I shouldn't have.

Well, yesterday, in the day room, the young man sat at his usual perch: the top of the staircase. He did this for about an hour, then out of nowhere, he began saying over and over confidence, strength, and God. I was looking at him, and for the first time in a month, he spoke. He wasn't acting out, just speaking aloud to himself. I didn't know how to take it, but as I pondered that, the young man stood and retreated to his cell.

That evening, after a month of no interactions, he asked me for a comic book. I told him to get one from a friend that I had let read them, then returned my focus to my dinner in front of me. While eating, my little brother called me and shared that the young man was in need of something to read. I got up from my chair and marched to my friend's cell and grabbed the comic book. I returned, handing it to the young man, and left him and my little brother, oblivious to what was going on.

Sadly, the young man began crying on the tier. My brother witnessing his distress, ushered him to his cell and they had a discussion on being a man. The young man didn't know how to be one. He chose to be quiet and focus on getting free. Now in his isolation, old thoughts began crashing down on him. So much so, that it tore at his soul. He felt he was a failure before, and would be again. That's why he wanted an escape by reading a comic book. It didn't help. Nothing did, but having a conversation where he finally asked for help.

That young man exited his cell and began talking again. This time we're all aware of his struggles and are now assisting him in reaching his goal. All it took was for him to open up.

My issue was that I didn't find the confidence to say I'm here if you need to talk. Now his outcome arrived with a positive ending, but next time I gotta open my mouth and ask. So, to you out there, be confident and say something. We have people hurting, and feeling alone. Let's change that by caring.