By Joseph Kim
It wasn’t what I had expected it to be like at all. The hall was full of bright color and lined with great windows. To the left were shelves of toys and books and straight ahead were several vending machines. It was full of visitors, but it was quiet and oddly peaceful. There were many children, but none of them crying or screaming like they would at an airport or at a theater.
The room was full of intention. I was able to feel it the very second I stepped in to the room. There is only one real reason to visit a prison; to see someone you love.
This took me by surprise. Who would love a prisoner? Who could possibly love a criminal? I was in a maximum-security prison with murderers, pimps, drug dealers, and rapists. I expected to feel intimidated. I expected to hate the people that I saw, blame them for the horrendous headlines I read in the Times everyday.
Instead, I saw sons gently embracing their mothers. I saw husbands and boyfriends emotionally kissing their women. I saw fathers humbling crying as they held their children. I suddenly had an overwhelming batch of mixed emotions inside that I didn’t notice that the person I came to meet had come sit down next to me.
“What’s up Joe?”
“Hey, Ray. It’s good to see you.”
And that was all I could say. I was still taking in the strange environment. I was still trying to get a hold of my emotions. Raymond apparently understood and gave me a minute to gather myself. Finally, we started talking again.
We immediately jumped into business, talking on a strictly professional level about possible ventures, short-term goals, and managerial strategy. That was something I expected. That was something I had prepared for. But all the while as we talked about performance, legalities, and endeavors, in the back of my mind, all I wanted to do was ask him, “How are you doing here?”
I wanted to ask him how he felt being here. How he was being treated. How is the food? How is your bed? Do you have friends here? How does it feel being away from your family? Are you scared, upset, depressed?
I ended up able to ask some of those questions, but the correctional officer on the loudspeaker cut us short and it was time to go. All the prisoners lined up for count and dismissal as all the visitors slowly walked back to the sliding gate after prolonged kisses and hugs.
My intentions when first arriving were different than every other visitor. I came strictly to discuss business. What I ended up with was a deep realization that prisoners are people. They are people who have committed crimes and are being punished, but also people who have loved ones. They are husbands and fathers and sons and it is hard to ignore when you can see the clear intentions of their visitors.
