I am walking around with a knot in my stomach, very much on edge today. As I was last night, after visiting one of "my" boys in jail. I wish I could say this was uncharted waters but it is not. Several years ago I visited County for the first time to see a client; went to see him regularly & a few others occasionally, then last year the two boys who are living with me, who are brothers, whom I will call Jim and Jake, and their cousin, were in there. I went to that place twice a week, most weeks. They were there for almost 3 months -- at the ages of 17 and 18. I also started visiting an old client whom I will call Greg (age 18) and throughout the spring and summer saw him every other week.
I wish I could describe how it feels to have someone you care about, someone young who made some mistakes and yes, did some bad things but who is by no means a hardened criminal, in jail. In a large, impersonal, dirty, dingy place with no windows, run by gangs, being fed mostly bologna sandwiches and subject to strip searches and lock down at any time. It's like walking around with a knot in your stomach, it's like not being able to breathe, and feeling like you cannot breathe until the person is out. Last year I basically had a breakdown; this year I'm hoping I'm stronger. And I have to be here for the other two boys who are staying with me.
The boy who is jail is the eldest, and the most sensitive of them, at age 19 and a half. A few days after moving in with me (3 months ago) he was caught with "weed" and charged with a misdemeanor. Court sentenced him to six months' supervision but because he was already on probation, last week he had to go before the judge that sentenced him on the felony conviction (aggravated battery - it was a fight, a mutual fight, I know because I was there). Friday we went to court and that judge had him taken into custody. Tomorrow, Friday again, he has court and I was informed by a public defender that most of them time offenders with probation violation go to prison. I saw Jim last night and he was crying; he and his brother together. They are closer than most brothers; they have been each other's sole support network, especially since becoming homeless and staying with me. Jim knows anything could happen but the worst thing - for all of us - is the not knowing. I hope and pray there are no continuances.
Being locked up - as well as not having cigarettes, marijuana, and very little food (he says it makes him feel sick) - causes Jim to become depressed, hopeless, and to have suicidal thoughts. Last year I eventually called the mental health facility at Cook County and they took him, twice, to see a counselor. He said it did help but inmates - "detainees" - is the official County term - don't get mental health services unless they ask, or have clear overt signs such as suicide attempts. Just last month, I read about a young man who hanged himself in his cell by tying sheets together from the top bunk. I am grateful Jim is in a dorm setting where there are always others around.
His situation caused me the most stress last year, because in spite of visiting, writing many supportive letters, sending him poems & prayers & magazines & photos, and receiving many letters from him telling me how he was feeling, and accepting collect calls (though he didn't call much) -- he still felt really horrible, although he said all that helped some. The boys describe being in jail as like not being in the world at all.... as if they are not even alive.
For those of us that love the incarcerated, it's like being locked up with them. It's like someone dying, because one day they are in your life and the next they are gone. Life goes on without them in it. You feel guilty for enjoying yourself too much, but know you need to laugh or go crazy. It's hard to relax knowing they might be threatened, jumped, or sent to "the joint" -- although everyone who's been in prison says it is better than County. Tomorrow we might get some answers on this boy's fate....
Two years ago I went on a field trip to the jail, for one of my social work classes. I cannot tell you how suffocating it was in there; the air is so close and dense, the feeling so oppressive.
I wish I could describe how it feels to have someone you care about, someone young who made some mistakes and yes, did some bad things but who is by no means a hardened criminal, in jail. In a large, impersonal, dirty, dingy place with no windows, run by gangs, being fed mostly bologna sandwiches and subject to strip searches and lock down at any time. It's like walking around with a knot in your stomach, it's like not being able to breathe, and feeling like you cannot breathe until the person is out. Last year I basically had a breakdown; this year I'm hoping I'm stronger. And I have to be here for the other two boys who are staying with me.
The boy who is jail is the eldest, and the most sensitive of them, at age 19 and a half. A few days after moving in with me (3 months ago) he was caught with "weed" and charged with a misdemeanor. Court sentenced him to six months' supervision but because he was already on probation, last week he had to go before the judge that sentenced him on the felony conviction (aggravated battery - it was a fight, a mutual fight, I know because I was there). Friday we went to court and that judge had him taken into custody. Tomorrow, Friday again, he has court and I was informed by a public defender that most of them time offenders with probation violation go to prison. I saw Jim last night and he was crying; he and his brother together. They are closer than most brothers; they have been each other's sole support network, especially since becoming homeless and staying with me. Jim knows anything could happen but the worst thing - for all of us - is the not knowing. I hope and pray there are no continuances.
Being locked up - as well as not having cigarettes, marijuana, and very little food (he says it makes him feel sick) - causes Jim to become depressed, hopeless, and to have suicidal thoughts. Last year I eventually called the mental health facility at Cook County and they took him, twice, to see a counselor. He said it did help but inmates - "detainees" - is the official County term - don't get mental health services unless they ask, or have clear overt signs such as suicide attempts. Just last month, I read about a young man who hanged himself in his cell by tying sheets together from the top bunk. I am grateful Jim is in a dorm setting where there are always others around.
His situation caused me the most stress last year, because in spite of visiting, writing many supportive letters, sending him poems & prayers & magazines & photos, and receiving many letters from him telling me how he was feeling, and accepting collect calls (though he didn't call much) -- he still felt really horrible, although he said all that helped some. The boys describe being in jail as like not being in the world at all.... as if they are not even alive.
For those of us that love the incarcerated, it's like being locked up with them. It's like someone dying, because one day they are in your life and the next they are gone. Life goes on without them in it. You feel guilty for enjoying yourself too much, but know you need to laugh or go crazy. It's hard to relax knowing they might be threatened, jumped, or sent to "the joint" -- although everyone who's been in prison says it is better than County. Tomorrow we might get some answers on this boy's fate....
Two years ago I went on a field trip to the jail, for one of my social work classes. I cannot tell you how suffocating it was in there; the air is so close and dense, the feeling so oppressive.
I dont know what's better, to fight this drowning feeling or to just let go...........
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