Emotional Impact of Alcatraz

 This morning I was thinking about the emotional impact from my recent visit to Alcatraz.  My sister wanted to go to this most popular SF attraction on her birthday and previously purchased tickets. Ubiquitous Alcatraz souvenirs lined SF shops including little black and white stripped outfits for babies and other novelties making light of the experience of being incarcerated and fascination over possible escapes. The whole prison humor fell a little flat with me.  I found these items offensive and deeply disturbing, though I know merchandisers were just trying to make a buck.   No one was purposely trying to hurt my feelings-this was all just for "fun" like "Ha, Ha- Look at me-I'm a bad girl.  These prison rules are funny.  Let's escape." The trip to Alcatraz was much more serious, informative, interesting, and evocative.  However, I didn't need the cell house audio tour designed to give visitors a  "direct emotional impact with the experience of incarceration."   For me, my connection with the penal system is already deeply personal.

It was all just a little too much as I cried while  listening to the narrator describe conditions of the prisoners while gazing into the cell.  I do not know what it was like for the men in Alcatraz, but I  have received detailed descriptions of prison life from my x-husband.  He tries to tell me what it's like for him while spending time in the modern day equivalent to Alcatraz- FCI Florence (as if I didn't need to hear THAT on the cell house tour recording).  I've been there once.  He's not in the Super Max underground prison-it's just across the way.   I'm so sorry he has had to live in a little square block cell for the past 7 years with a hard bed, little blanket, and cold toilet.  I'm so sorry he has spent months in isolation when prison authorities thought he was causing problems. I'm so sorry he talks and writes like a crazy person. I'm so sorry that his family has not really "been there" for him to give him the support he needs.   I'm so sorry the man I loved for so long, has suffered and continues to suffer.  I'm so sorry for the things he has done to land him in prison in the first place.  I'm sorry that I haven't done the things that he believes would have freed him from his oppressors-that I somehow held the key to open the prison doors-but would not. I could go on and on and continue to cry as I write down all the things that were going through my head as I gazed into the Alcatraz cell.   I don't not really know "what it is like" to be in prison.  I'm sure as heck not going to take a tourist picture of me behind bars cause I think it looks "cool." Yet, I'm drawn to the penal system and am committed to help others achieve freedom rather than make a temporary escapes.

Though I'm not quite ready to work at a prison (though the pay is tempting) I work in a "secure" residential treatment center for children.  Everything is locked.  The children have strict rules, strict schedules and stand in lines.  They have minimal possessions.  Almost anything is considered contraband with a potential to harm self or others and extreme care is taken for all supplies.  We have an observation room for children that are acting out-some defecating and smearing poop or their own blood on the walls or trying to strangle themselves with their own clothes (yes, children do these things).  We have seclusions and restraints.  We have break outs, runaways and search parties.  With safe behavior and stabilized behaviors, children earn privileges and learn to function in less restricted environments.  It's scaled down and my place of work is filled with the sweet innocence, but it's still like a little kid prison. Given a spoon, I'm sure most the kids would love to dig through the walls and escape to freedom. Once out, the real problem is trying to figure out where to run to, not just what to run away from.

How we all want to be free!  One of the last stories from cell house audio tour was about a man who had been released from Alcatraz and now walking around the streets of San Francisco.  He reported feeling even more anxious than he was in prison because he didn't know what he was supposed to do now?  What do I do now that I have freedom?   What to do with my time?  What to do with my attention? I am deeply passionate about finding the answers to those questions.  It's part of my life mission to promote leisure functioning and health and well-being.   I think we all have experience with some sort of of incarceration even if it's it's only in our heads.  Like the man on the street,  we all want to be free and know what to do with that freedom.  The audio cell house tour not only had an emotional impact on me, but strengthened my desire to continue learning how to be of service to all who find themselves in ANY type of prison.