"Right Brained People Living In A Left Brained World"

The title of this post is borrowed from a book with the title:  Right-Brained Children in a Left-Brained World  by Jeffrey Freed and Laurie Parsons.  The copyright date is 1997.  I bought this book back in the late 90's when I realized I was faced with two very intelligent, very right brained boys (my sons, Nate and Brandon) and was having a very difficult time relating....and so were their teachers.  By the way the subtitle to this book is (you many have already guessed) Unlocking The Potential of Your ADD Child.  I know what you might be saying, oh please, this is such an old subject.  Well, not really, it is very pertinent for many reasons.  Stick with me on this, it is more fun than you may think and has far greater applications than you may have imagined.

I have been considered very left brained all my life, which is actually somewhat unusual for a woman.  I am analytical, math oriented, rational, logical and linear in my thought.  And it is my left brain that made me put that linear continuum up there for you to see (it was a stretch to put it on pink paper with purple ink).  Had I been a right brained person, I would have been much more creative and had that continuum branching all over the place and in many different colors.   Left brained attributes are quite often assigned to men, whereas women are generally more spontaneous, imaginative, emotional, sensitive and creative creatures or right brained.  Now look at the attributes assigned to ADD and ADHD children: impulsive, hypersensory, sensitive, daydreamers, visual, distractible and in many cases hyperactive.  There are far more detail descriptions, but I will leave that to you if you want to research further.

I wanted to understand everything I could about this phenomenon or what really comes down to different learning styles, because I wanted to help my boys and their teachers work through the obstacles that right brained thinking poses for left brained people in our socially acceptable left brained world.  And I wanted to do it without my children taking any prescribed drugs.  I am not a believer in medicating our youth (or adults for that matter).  Although what I saw and experienced during my time locked up caused me to realize there are some people who do benefit with some help, as they are non-functioning otherwise.

I gained a great deal of understanding from this book and I think it helped me in my parenting as well, especially when it came to helping Nate (with autism) learn at all and with Brandon, in how solutions and methods for solving were presented.  For both, once they had a visual of something they could work it every which way.  As for Nate he could say the alphabet as fast backward as he did forward which was very fast.  Pictures became the center of his learning.  And he could read and remember like nothing I had ever experienced in my life. 

With Brandon, he was the grand winner of the school spelling bees, year after year, because we pictured things together in his practice and once he realized he could spell words backwards and forward with the same speed, by utilizing the pictures in his head, he knew he could spell any word he had ever seen, because he could access the picture of that word in his head.  Brandon was very artistic, he had beautiful and detailed drawings but as the grades progressed the school was not interested in developing that gift, in fact his drawing became a problem for teachers, in subjects other than art.  In helping him with math homework, I knew I was in trouble.  Brandon could visualize an answer (not doing the steps), whereas I was interested in taking him through the steps, because that is the way I think and I knew many teachers look for that as proof of understanding and doing your own work.  But when we would sit at the kitchen table to work together, within 5 to 10 minutes he would literally turn around in his chair with his back to me and the little help session was over.  He just didn't get it that way!!  But when I searched for answers, I found that if I could explain a concept with pictures and allow him to tell me how he was seeing things, then we'd have a home run.

All of this caused  me to become more creative, more observant and open to change if I wanted to relate to my boys and others like them.  As part of my love for my boys I wanted to be useful in helping them to succeed.  I am sure I share this with many parents out there.

As young adults, my sons both love music, art, are very visual and express their feelings loud and clear.  Brandon has taught himself to play the keyboards and is in a band, in addition to working almost full time and going to college full time.  He has learned to take his hyperactivity and focus it in ways that will benefit him.  I have to remind him to sleep.  Nate still loves to read, enjoys anything visual and is my most loving gentle giant.

When I developed The NOAH Project, we had a lengthy reading list of books as part of the training.  The book I have mentioned in this post was of course high on that list.  And many of our teachers/child facilitators made a point to tell me they really enjoyed it as it helped them to understand how there are truly different learning styles and for some it helped them to better understand their selves.  Definitely a good read.  In this day, the age of laptops, video games and iPhones, the VISUALS are winning out.  More and more of the kids are fitting into this pattern, if not born this way, they become this way by the time they are 3 to 4 years old as a result of being surrounded by our current day technologies.  For us old dinosaurs we have to move with them or be left in the dust.

All of that brings me to my point.  The jails and prisons are just loaded with right brained people.  I could not believe the talent of those incarcerated.  Singing voices that would just bring you to your knees with tears in your eyes.  And prison art is extraordinary.  I learned some while I was in there and I wanted to share it with you.  What I brought home is a combination of my doodles and that of others.  Nancy (my dear cousin), if you are reading this, know that you inspired this blog post with your blog post Doodle that!  Follow that link for more fun!  Below is some of the prison art I brought home:

This is just a small sampling.  Do you know, with exception of just a handful of women, most women I met in prison did miserably in school, many fell through the cracks at an early age,

yet they are talented, in a very right brained way.   How many of these women, would you dare to guess, learn in a different way?  By the time a child gets to the third grade, the teaching style becomes predominantly auditory and very left brained.  What about the visual learners!  That is also when behavior problems become so prevalent.  If behavior problems were addressed in a positive way, meaning how can we teach you in a different way, how can we develop the skills you have, how can we help you in the best way to prepare for life (instead of trying to force a square peg into a round hole)...would our jails and prisons still be full to the brim?  I dare say NOT!

The system failed many of these people at a very early age.  It is my understanding the men's prison and jails have many talented people also.  A whole lot of right brained people stubbing their toes in a left brained world....leading to incarceration.  There are those who argue we should not educate people in prison, they messed up when they had their chance.  I ask why not?  The system failed them before, when they were kids being batted around, why not a second chance?  And why not in a learning style that is conducive to their developmental growth.  Our right brain is known for our survival skills.  Many of these people did not have the best of home environments during their early years thus having to focus on survival, perhaps not able to make the jump to their left brain skills.  But, while separated from the streets, can you think of a better time to reach these people and help them become productive members of society.  They will be our neighbors, they are our fellow human beings, so why not help them get what they need to grow skills through education in a way they can learn and blossom?

We also have to address making  a place for these people when they come out.  A discussion on bettering people incarcerated falls by the wayside if we don't change our attitudes about those with a background and allow them a second (or third) chance by employing them and for that matter welcoming them into our churches.  The statistics now reflect one in five people in this country have a criminal background.  We have to educate and we have to change our attitudes so we can all become winners in this game of life.

FAMOUS RIGHT BRAINED PEOPLE:

Sir Isaac Newton

Aristotle

Albert Einstein

Leonardo Da Vinci

Jonas Salk

Thomas Alva Edison

Galileo Galilei

Socrates

Bill Gates

Benjamin Franklin

Steven Spielberg

Alexander Graham Bell

Thomas Jefferson

Abraham Lincoln

Pablo Picasso

                     

How HE Wants Us To Live

Being an older person in jail/prison has its benefits.  While the environment is volatile and rife with violence and fear, there are many who seem to actually respect and treat with consideration the elders.  Being in my early 50's I qualified as a grandma type figure or "elder".  Although during the first 19 months I was in Dallas County Jail following my trial and awaiting results of the initial stages of my appeal I did run in to a few women right off the street who wanted to take on anybody and everybody.  That is a lifestyle I have never lived and having never physically fought I was no match for anyone, yet there were at least two instances at Dallas County where I had to stand my ground one way or another. 

Both instances happened in a medical general population tank at the Government Center in Dallas, also known as the George Allen Building.  In a tank there were 5 cells, and in each of the 5 cells there were 5 inmates.   So, in the tank's dayroom that we all shared there was 25 of us.  At night, between 11/12 p.m. and about 4 a.m. we were locked into our cell with our cellmates, so just 5 of us during that time.

I was having a difficult time with one of the women who had recently moved into our cell.  She had a reputation of lieing, picking fights and cheating at cards.  She was about 22 years old, a bully and very loud.  Her crime was stealing credit cards from little old ladies purses who were shopping at Walgreens Drug Stores.  She apparently was wanted by many and showed up on several security videos, as most every day she was called out to the magistrate court to receive more charges against her.  Last I knew she had well over 50 different charges brought against her.  At any rate, you can see by the crime that she was a predator of the elder so my age was probably a red flag to her but not in a good way.

One night once they had locked the cell for the 4 - 5 hours she started yelling at me.  I don't recall what set her off, if anything.  I just turned my back and ignored her but I also did not sleep a wink.  I was having such a difficult time that after breakfast at 4 in the morning I just stayed out in the dayroom with my Bible.  I opened it up and was immediately drawn to Chapter 4 in Colossians.  As I'm sure you know, Colossians was written by apostle, Paul, while imprisoned.  The Bible I had (sent to me by Sam, Nancy's husband and my minister) was The Message version, which is current day dialect, perfect for my understanding.  Colossians 4: 2 - 6 is as follows:

• "Pray diligently.  Stay alert, with your eyes wide open in gratitude.  Don't forget to pray for us, that God will open doors for telling the mystery of Christ, even while I'm locked up in this jail.  Pray that every time I open my mouth I'll be able to make Christ plain as day to them.  Use your head as you live and work among outsiders.  Don't miss a trick.  Make the most of every opportunity.  Be gracious in your speech.  The goal is to bring out the best in others in a conversation, not put them down, not cut them out."

Wow!  It certainly changed how I handled things.  Instead of fighting back or getting ugly with gossip I took the more positive approach.  There were no more outbursts by her toward me and I was able to get some sleep, trusting that when my eyes were closed I would be safe.  I was so thankful for the Bible and most especially for getting direction as to how to live, even under the worst of circumstances.

The other situation I wanted to tell you about started while my husband, Ron, was visiting one evening.  At the Government Center, the visiting was a bit different because of it being such an old facility.  The visitors actually came down the hall to where our tank was located and there were small (3" by 6") type windows at eye level, where we would stand and talk to one another's eyes while speaking over telephone receivers.  When looking in these small windows the visitors would actually have a look into our dayroom and the bars beyond that were our cells.  Intermittently between our little visitor windows were pay phones for inmates making calls out. 

Back to that evening, I had just started my visit with Ron and this other inmate (a prostitute who had just been arrested and placed in our tank) had decided to use the pay phone right next to me (probably just 2 feet away) and she started screaming at the person (I was told it was her pimp) on the phone with her.  I calmly asked her to quiet down as I was visiting, so she then starts screaming at the top of her lungs at me.  Next I raised my voice just slightly and told her again to move to another phone.  An officer happened by and told us to stop it and sent Ron on his way, ending our visit early.  I was fuming, Ron had traveled a long way to get there and he could not see well enough to be driving at night in the first place.   I said nothing else to her that evening or the next couple days.  Every time she would walk by me she would brush up against me.  I wondered what that was all about and the women I played cards with told me that's what they do to start a fight.  I had no idea, clueless!

I needed to defuse this thing but didn't know how so I returned to my Bible, praying for guidance.  The last thing I wanted was a fight.  I opened the Bible to 1 Thessalonians, Chapter 5: 13 - 18.  Again, it is The Message version and it said:

• "Get along among yourselves, each of you doing your part.  Our counsel is that you warn the freeloaders to get a move on.  Gently encourage the stragglers, and reach out for the exhausted, pulling them to their feet.  Be patient with each person, attentive to individual needs.  And be careful that when you get on each others' nerves you don't snap at each other.  Look for the best in each other, and always do your best to bring it out.  Be cheerful no matter what; pray all the time;  thank God no matter what happens.  This is the way God wants you who belong to Christ Jesus to live."

It was the perfect thing for me to read, righting my attitude.  Then just a couple days after that the two of us sat together in the dayroom and shared with each other about our lives and how we came to be in Dallas County Jail.  She and I got along beautifully for the rest of our stay in the same tank, showing respect for one another.  The day we split up during a massive move of all inmates out of the condemned Government Center she saw me struggling with the weight of my stuff.  She offered to help me and I accepted.  I remember wanting to cry for her gracious offer and kindness.  Then we said goodbye, with smiles, as we went to our new assignments in a different facility.  All of that happened in one week's time and OH! what a difference the change in my attitude made. 

We can never go wrong by turning to the Word for guidance.  I don't know how I could have survived the three years without it.  God sure is faithful to us and in my life he used a very difficult environment to show me how His Word works....but then where better to see it so clearly.  He had my full attention!

Motherhood in Question?

I was thinking, over this holiday weekend how good it is to have family together, I just feel so happy to be surrounded by the people I love.  Even as we do our own independent activities within our home, I can sense we are close to one another and can feel that warmth and love just radiating from our very beings.  I had a difficult time while incarcerated, in fact the hardest part of being locked up was missing my children,  the pain was just deep down in the depth of my soul.  I had no idea I would have to survive three years away, I don't think I could have even wrapped my thoughts around such a void when I was first ushered into the pits of Dallas County Jail following my trial.  I thought surely I would be out on an appeals bond in no time. I couldn't even imagine the Judge setting a bond so high my family couldn't touch it. After all, in the four years prior to my trial I had been on a personal recognizance bond for most of that time and had never violated the terms, showing up in court every two weeks.

One of the biggest issues of this countries' excessive incarceration practices is the destructive force it has on the families in America.  Such a destructive force, indeed.  Pulling parents away from their children.  I used to think the children were better off without those "criminal" parents.  Once in there, meeting many good, family oriented, kind and nurturing women I had to really rethink the stereotype I had implanted in my brain.  Besides, there I was too and not because of any loathsome lifestyle.

About a year into my incarceration, and still at Dallas County, I finally sat down and wrote a book except, more as a therapy for me than anything else.  I needed to sort out my feelings about being ripped away from motherhood, it seemed like the emptiness I felt was going to eat me up, not to mention the lingering anger.  Following is that excerpt:

     In our society and perhaps all societies a woman's role inside the family includes one of nurturing - to care for and develop the children.  Girl children are expected, from an early age, to help their mom with younger children and around the house, while their play most often includes caring for their baby dolls.  As little girls we are taught we are valuable if we help others, quite often that is how we receive our acceptance among the adults in our life.  There are inherent messages of - it is okay to exist so long as we are needed and useful.  The more needed we are, the more purpose we have, the more our existence on this earth is affirmed.  Thus, perpetuating the need to be needed.  It wraps around and possibly smothers our very being.  It even creates a neediness about us.  We become extreme givers while some of us attach to extreme takers, resenting it all the while, yet somehow needing it.  It is a vicious cycle.  We have a hard time receiving anything for ourselves.  Our need to give is primary, with taking care of ourselves secondary, at best. 

     As a child the intrinsic and unstated belief is that it is what we do to survive, to keep from being abandoned.  Therefore, one learns to give without boundaries, at what can become a high cost to self, perhaps abandoning self.  The very issue of abandonment becomes so internalized, growing our neediness.  We look for constant affirmations in our relationships, thereby placing the burden on our loved ones to constantly affirm our existence.  This creates a needy mom, one who may figuratively suffocate their children with "love", one who flounders once they become empty-nesters.

     It is with this said that I explore my growing resentment toward Ron [my husband] in hopes I can prevent the festering of this in our relationship.  If all emotions are based either in fear or love, then resentment is clearly that of fear.  What do I fear?  I fear that Ron will replace me in the eyes of my boys.  I fear I will no longer be needed or valued.  I fear if I am no longer needed then I have no reason for being.  My career has been destroyed and now it feels like motherhood has been stolen from me.  I feel so much grief, bone deep.  These are the two ways I have defined myself, as  a mom and as a business woman.  All was torn away from me once I was convicted and sentenced.  So, where does that leave me?  In Dallas County jail, with only myself to take care of.

     An opportunity to re-parent myself.  I know that sounds crazy but here it is, an opening in my life to find value in me, just being, not performing.  To not be needed by others, yet still be alive, very much alive.  It's beginning to look as though I have an opportunity staring me in the face.  And, when I look at it that way, I feel only gratitude toward Ron.  This reminds me of a quote from my friend, Bears Kaufman:  "when we stand in gratitude, there is no room for unhappiness." 

     So, I have a choice, I can steep myself in fear or I can steep myself in love.  What a grand choice and here I was thinking all choices were taken away from me when I was incarcerated.  As I wallowed in resentment I became unaware of choice.  But allowing myself to explore this I find they cannot take away my attitude and beliefs.

     As I tread through this case against me I have gone through a series of letting go.  First it was my career, then material possessions, as I scrambled to pay legal fees and find any job as a means to support us.   Then it was my physical freedom.  Now, I have the opportunity to let go of my resentment, my fear.  Not just any fear, but a made-up fear. 

     In letting go of that fear I have created a space to redefine myself, to redefine my purpose, to clear out more of the clutter and come to trust myself and my belief in God.  Yet another lesson in surrender.  Another lesson in choosing love.  A chance to learn to nurture myself, thereby growing an interdependent love rather than codependent love for others.  How freeing this is and here I thought all my freedoms had been usurped.  My captors cannot steal or control my thoughts.  I'm in charge of choosing beliefs and corresponding thoughts that enliven a  healthy existence; therein lies my continuing commitment to myself and God.

Working through this was a giant step in my survival and really required me to let go even more of the victim role, as that thinking was just making me sick and wearing me down.  Once I began to clean up my thinking on this subject, my rational thought returned and I knew that I would always be the mother of Nate and Brandon and nothing could diminish the love we have for one another.  We survived our separation from one another.  I missed a big chunk of their lives, their high school years, I can't get those years back, but I do have today for which I am infinitely grateful.

Reverence for Life...Take Action

It's interesting how life works, isn't it?  We are brought the very challenges we need at just the right time.  I cannot say I would have asked for any of my particular challenges, at least not outright, but certainly they were presented.  In each instance, it has always been clear to me that I was in charge of how I responded, for that is really all I have control of...my attitudes.  As a result of that awareness I redefine challenges as opportunities.

I have been drawn to the works of Albert Schweitzer for as far back as I can remember.  A German man of many talents: he built organs, became an acclaimed organist, a church pastor and a university professor with a doctorate in philosophy.  At the age of 30, aware of the need for medical care in Africa, he decided to become a medical doctor and devote the rest of his life to serving these people.  At the age of 37 he opened a hospital in Lambarene, Gabon - at the time a French province in Equatorial Africa.  He continued there until his death, at the age of 90, traveling back and forth to Europe for fundraising and gathering of supplies over the years.  During World War I, both Schweitzer and his wife were imprisoned in France until the war was over, both becoming very ill because of the conditions in the prison.  In his life he wrote several books, my favorite is "Reverence For Life".  Schweitzer was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize at the age of 78.

Reverence for Life is a philosophy and speaks to our responsibility for all that we do, and calls upon us to have awareness and respect for all living things.  A simple message that gets overlooked so easily.

The other author who has had a significant influence in my life is Viktor Frankl with his book "Man's Search for Meaning".  Frankl was a Holocaust survivor and speaks to our responsibility to choose our attitude in any given circumstance, thus his own survival in a concentration camp of World War II.  He went on to become a professor of psychiatry and neurology plus an author of several books, helping many in the healing of their lives.

Both Schweitzer and Frankl lived challenging lives, helped others and believed strongly in always doing the next right thing.  Both wrote on the importance of attitude and awareness.  Both were imprisoned as innocent men.  Both were men of action, absolutely committed to making life better for others.  Both have been quoted saying that words are meaningless without action.  How can I not take action in my own life when I championed the lives and causes of these two men?  My belief in Jesus and all His promises is the foundation setting underneath all of this...and probably the reason for my draw to the works of these two men in the first place. 

Is it any wonder that I had a child whose personality and life were imprisoned with autism, giving me the opportunity of my life to connect and make certain he knew of my love for him.  But I never really wanted to stop there, I wanted to share what I knew with other families.  I still plan to continue in several different ways, by setting up a business that promotes a product for the nutritional needs of these kids whose immune systems are compromised, by writing books (for which I have partial drafts of two books) and by getting involved in working with these kids again.  Although this time I will include the young adults as my sweet Nate is now almost 20 years old.

Then of all things, I also had to endure life in prison, while falsely accused and wrongly convicted.  But didn't the writings of Schweitzer and Frankl influence my response, allowing me to come home further enriched.  I believe they must have.  And now that I am out of prison I feel just as strongly a need to help victims of the justice system as my need to help those afflicted with autism (both child and family).  But to just speak it, to just write in a blog about it, is not enough.  I have decided I must take action.

Through my experience of the justice system, I learned what is going on "inside", both inside the court room and inside the county jail and state prison.  I learned there are so many people imprisoned in Texas who could more effectively be helped by rehabilitation.  Like a dry alcoholic, they walk out of prison with all the same hungers....the addiction has not been confronted and healed, it may have been touched on at a superficial level.  Some people are lucky enough to just quit, once clean for a time, but most are still driven by that addiction.  They must do the healing of the underlying causes for their addictions, or they will be right back at it, medicating their pain.  When I say that recidivism is not being addressed, this is what I am talking about.  By not healing these people (those that are willing - which in my experience are numerous) then we are just providing a revolving door within the criminal justice system.

Further, EDUCATION!!  It must be increased.  Many of those imprisoned are without proper education.  We are not preparing people to reenter society with skills that will keep them from falling back into trouble.  People leaving prison have got to be employable.  Many are not, thus moving back into illegal activities to provide a living or means of survival.  Are we for our people in this country or not?  It is so difficult to get my arms around the fact that we are one of the most advanced countries on this earth, yet so many people are falling through the cracks. 

On the employable issue there is yet another piece.   Twenty one percent of Americans have a "criminal background" given our runaway justice system.  Their must be a shift in thinking by recruiters and employers or there will be no hiring of those with criminal backgrounds, thus increasing our government subsidy programs (food stamps, Medicaid, MHMR payments, TANF, etc).  What many people do not realize is this group can be the hardest workers, with some of the best work ethics, as they are motivated to prove they are worthy.  Positive reinforcement is giant to these people.  That is what most would seek and respond to in prison and that is what will work once released to really bring them to a new lifestyle as they become productive citizens.

Then of course there are the falsely accused and wrongly convicted group.  More people than I ever imagined.  Even one person in this category is too many.  In fighting my own case, I hope to provide a way for others to follow.  The appeal system is very cumbersome and unfriendly and many just give up or never begin the process feeling defeated from the start, but does it have to be that way?  I will continue to write about how the false accusations and wrongful conviction came about in my own case thus increasing awareness.  Once exonerated I will publish a book with far more details than I have shared in this blog.  Even then, that is not enough, there is a need to get involved with those who are fighting this fight, helping in any way that I can.  Checks and balances must be brought to our justice system.  Without that, it will continue.  As I've said before, those that are a party to false arrests and convictions have to be made accountable.   Otherwise, there will be more families disrupted by this insanity.  There must be a movement for reform in our justice system to prevent this miscarriage of justice in the future. 

When I think in terms of  Reverence for Life, there can really be no other way.  It is our responsibility as human beings to stand up for the causes that relate to respect and betterment of fellow humans and for our living earth....be that in the treatment of autism or the healing of those incarcerated or the many other causes that effect each of our lives.  One has to ask, what touches my heart?  How can I help?  How can we improve the quality of our lives and others' right now?  When we leave this world, don't we want to leave it a better place for our kids and all those that follow?  I know I do!

The Costs are HUGE!

The Internet dialogues continued with my "team" but I was becoming more disillusioned as I began to really understand...there was no white knight in shining armor going to save me from this system and each day the Texas justice system took on a more oppressive and dark look.  My second attorney, Mark Perez, had just asked for an additional $50,000.  I was unable to pay so he withdrew and I was awaiting the court's decision on my indigent status and a court appointed attorney.  The dialogue went as follows:

ifonlythiswasover:  I wonder when all this is done...if my faith in anything will be restored???  Its hard for me right now to even TRUST.  So much of what I believed in is being challenged.

lionheartix:  I've noticed that. lol

ifonlythiswasover:  I believed in good wins out.  I believed that there was such a thing as justice.  I believed in the police.

lionheartix:  we all did....we grew up with those ideals.

ifonlythiswasover:  I didn't want to become a skeptic.  Now I am told truth doesn't matter to the people I believed upheld it?  Why aren't they honest with what they teach us in school?  What ever happened to authenticity?

lionheartix:  some people go through their whole lives without ever being challenged.  But, it is said, that the more one is challenged, the more character it builds.

ifonlythiswasover:  it seems like I might have enough already!  Maybe we could hit the media really hard with this case then they would be forced to move it out of Texas to a new venue.  I just don't trust Texas or the power these men have over the political/justice system.

lionheartix:  It just doesn't make sense for Perez to push you for $50 more grand for this.  Or...drop your case.

ifonlythiswasover:  he said he checked with other attorneys and that was "fair"...I would think he would set his own fair standards.  I'll tell you what is not fair...is being falsely accused....that I have to waste valuable time on this...

lionheartix:  you're right.

ifonlythiswasover:  about what?

lionheartix:  it being a waste of time.  You are all stressed out for all this time, and it is a waste.

ifonlythiswasover:  it is...for everybody involved...including the taxpayers money.

lionheartix:  I'm glad I don't live in Dallas County.  I don't pay into the peoples' paychecks of Dallas County.

ifonlythiswasover:  yeah...but this happens everywhere...it seems inherent in the legal system.  Perez was good, just when I start feeling confident...it seems as though I get hit again.

lionheartix:  that has been happening, for sure.

ifonlythiswasover:  I feel sad, scared, angry...all wrapped up into one ball.

lionheartix:  keep hanging in there.

ifonlythiswasover:  I will... the only happy moments I feel as though I have are mostly with Nate and Brandon [my sons]....even then the dark cloud seems to come around.

lionheartix:  OK...things are tough now.  It will pass.

ifonlythiswasover:  I know.....

This dialogue really brings out several important factors.  Of course the most obvious, is the emotional and mental toll it takes on the lives of people involved.  But, look at the costs!!!  Once falsely accused it became almost impossible to get a job....what with all my court appearances and attorney appointments.  Eventually someone hired me for the two years just prior to the trial and gave me the flexibility I needed.  I was being paid less than 25%  of what I was used to earning, but I was extremely grateful for that, so at least I could pay the rent and feed my family.

BUT....Dear Taxpayers!!  The cost of the system!  Unbelievable the amount of wasted tax dollars that go into the falsely accused and wrongly convicted cases....and to many others who probably could benefit from probation/out-patient rehab or those who should have much shorter sentences.  Most people don't fight the system....don't feel as though they can...and just plea.  The cost to take care of each prisoner is significant...somewhere in the range of $40 - $50,000 per year/person incarcerated (not including medical).  But for someone fighting their case....there are significantly more costs: attorney fees, forensics (or in my case - prosecution and civil attorneys fighting to keep the forensics out).  Look at the payrolls of the judges, the prosecutors, public defenders, all the other employees involved with the overcrowded court system. 

In Texas alone, the line item in the budget for prisons is $5 billion.  That doesn't include city or county jails or any of the court proceedings.  Do we really have that many outlaws?!?!  Or do we just have a runaway justice system?

Here are some statistics for you to think about.  The United States has the biggest prison population on earth and we have the highest incarceration rate of any nation.  Our incarceration rate is six times higher than China, a place we like to believe is far more oppressive than we are.  The USA is home to only 5% of the world's population, but one quarter of the world's prisoners.  The blog called "Grits for Breakfast" has an excellent short video on this very subject...it is a PBS segment you will not want to miss!  If you want to read further, there is a recent thirty three page study titled "Cost and Punishment: Reassessing Incarceration Costs and the Value of College-In-Prison Programs" by Gregory Knott.

I have seen estimates as high as 3,500 - 5,000 innocents sitting in the Texas prison system.  I don't know the actual number.  They say that is the cost of having an effective justice system, "errors will be made".  I don't think there was "error" in my case, as I've shared with you regarding the pretrial Hearings, my complaint letters and notifications and of course, the Motion in Limine filed 10 days before my trial.  I have heard similar stories over and over again....some while I was incarcerated and others since I have been out.  There is an enormous cost associated with wrongful convictions both in terms of wasted tax dollars and the effect it has on the ability of the wrongful convicted to ever live a fully productive life again.  Society pays the toll for this prison boom.

There are many ways to change what is happening.  The study linked above talks about college programs to prisoners so they might be employable when released thus reducing recidivism.  That is great, but in the job market of today, employers are not hiring people with criminal backgrounds...most especially in the professional world.  Once our ailing economy is healed there will still have to be an attitude shift of employers and recruiters.  It is important for our society to raise its awareness with regard to these issues and become much more educated as to how our tax dollars are being spent so that we are better equipped to make informed votes as well as speaking out for what is right.  Check with organizations like Project: Not Guilty and The Innocence Project of Texas to gather more information and see how you might help.

The immunity given the courts, prosecution and police needs to be closely monitored.  Immunity can be a set up for conspiracy thus allowing innocent people to be convicted.  Besides victims of conspiracy, people falsely accused and wrongly convicted all have something else in common...a clear violation of their Constitutional Rights.  We have seen or heard of it happening time and again.  Those who accuse or pursue innocent people and knowingly withhold evidence need to be held accountable.  In any other job in the world, those who are negligent or lie, lose their jobs.  I think we need to take a hard look at the checks and balances in our justice system.  It is up to us ...

"We the people are the rightful masters of both Congress and the courts, not to overthrow the Constitution but to overthrow the men who pervert the Constitution."

                                                   ~Abraham Lincoln

   

In God's Time

I knew the name of this blog before I ever wrote it or even organized my thoughts on the subject.  Usually its the other way around for me, I write, then search for the name.  This particular subject I have battled with all my life...In God's Time....but I want it NOW!!!  And I want it my way!!!  Sound familiar?

While in prison, just prior to being accepted into the Faith Dorm I was accepted to participate in a Retreat Weekend, held by a prison ministry called "KAIROS".  The way we were considered for this weekend is to write a request into the prison chaplain explaining why we want to attend the Kairos weekend.  I wrote three times, it seemed important enough to me to become a squeaky wheel.  And, sure enough, I received far more than I ever imagined possible. 

A little definition is in order here.  "Kairos" is a Greek word meaning undetermined time when something special happens.  In contrast "Chronos" is the Greek word for chronological or sequential time.  To take this a step further, in Christian theology kairos refers to "the appointed time in the purpose of God", the time when God acts.  For example Mark 1:15 says "the time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God is at hand....." this is referring to kairos time.  This retreat weekend was indeed, a time for God's purposes, His presence was enormous and awesome, the transformations among us were amazing and inspiring.

To start with, it was held in the gymnasium which had been partitioned off into sections.  A section for group meetings, a section for worship and a section for eating. On a Thursday evening we were ushered into the gym and every two of us were assigned a volunteer.  We were offered a buffet dinner...fresh fruits, fresh vegetables, olives and finger sandwiches.  That may not sound like a big deal to you, BUT it was GIANT to us.  I had not had fresh veggies or fruit since incarcerated ...at that time it had been two and a half years and I craved these delicacies.  For others it had been even longer.  After filling our bodies with healthy food, they began to fill our hearts and minds with healthy thoughts and feelings through songs, sharing and presentations.  These women, the volunteers, had unconditional love down to a tee, they embraced each one of us just as we were.  Not one of us ever felt judged, we were brought into this circle of Christian women with open arms.  I don't think I have ever experienced so much love at once.  The women came from several different denominations...there were Baptist, Methodist, Episcopalians, Catholics and Lutheran to name a few.  They came from churches all around, some from as far as 50+ miles away.  Some of the volunteers were ministers at their churches. 

At night we had to return to our cells to sleep.  We were then brought back Friday, Saturday and Sunday.  In all we were together about 36 hours.  They provided our meals, which were home cooked by volunteers outside the prison.  Another large volunteer group that we never saw were the prayer warriors.  These were volunteers specifically assigned to each one of us and were to pray for that person all weekend.  They wrote us personal notes and sent them in, they took prayer requests from us and included that in their prayers. 

The presentations to us were shared among the volunteers.  After a presentation we then did group projects based on our understanding and presented those projects to the entire group.  So the presentations to us were turned into an experiential learning, a much better way for us to retain and connect to our lessons.  There were approximately 50 inmates and the volunteer group inside with us was approximately 35-40 women.  As we were walking in each morning the volunteers surrounded us and sang to us.  It was so beautiful.  I still get tears when I think of how joyful that weekend was....it was like an oasis in the middle of a desert and we were just thirsting for what they gave us.  The community that grew among us became an enormous force of nature...we carried it with us for the remainder of my time there...and I'm certain it continued long after I left. 

On Saturday morning we were each handed a small piece of rice paper and told to write names of people we needed to ask forgiveness from on one side and those we needed to forgive on the other side...we kept it with us throughout the day and wrote names as they came to us.  Then later that evening we had a worship service on forgiveness and prayed on our lists.  At the end of that service the minister was at a table with a large bowl of water and a wooden spoon, we each went up and put our list in the water, one at a time, and as she stirred we watched it dissolve.  Following that exercise there were ministers in each corner of the room so we lined up (if we wanted) and were prayed over while that minister washed our hands.  The power of that entire experience and the feeling of freedom was beyond words.  It made the actual prison walls surrounding us seem like nothing, as we realized how withholding of forgiveness (in either direction) really creates a prison within, one for which there is no parole unless we make the choice to let go and speak those words and clean our thoughts.  I started out that morning saying I was not a grudge holder so I wouldn't have anybody on my list...then as the day went on...my list grew and grew as I became more and more honest with myself.

Also offered during the weekend were individual counseling sessions with ministers of our choice, but only if we wanted.  I had been grappling with the forgiveness issue regarding my false accusers.  I had prayed over this several times, but seemed to have circular thinking.  I met with one of the ministers I felt most comfortable with, asking if it made sense for me to continue with my appeal/habeas if I have truly forgiven them?  Giant question for me.  It was her belief that I was dealing with two separate issues, making them one.  It was okay for me to pursue clearing my name (sticking to the facts of the case) and at the same time forgive these men.  The two actions could live hand in hand inside of me.  I began to understand, and was provided a sense of relief.  I still work on this and when I feel the anger surface again (as it does), I lift it up, let it go and move on.  Sometimes my husband gets angry at me for not being more angry, but I know that anger, if I were to hold on to it, would just kill me (if not physically, then spiritually for sure).

Everything in God's time...I have to remember that!  My parole was granted that very Friday while I was at the Kairos Retreat, although I wouldn't find out about it for another three weeks.  When I came home several months later I found that sweet Nate, my special needs son, had regressed significantly.  I had heard about this but never imagined how bad things were for him.  My husband's health had deteriorated because of diabetes, he never let on in his letters but his last couple visits were somewhat revealing.  My other son, Brandon, had survived the best, but basically had been very much on his own soon after I left, doing it the best he could (like being in the family group but not connected).  I have to remind myself...the healing is all in God's time too....for all of us.  The habeas is still not filed, I pray on that also.  That habeas has to be the best it can be, because it is a one-shot deal.  God's time!!  His perfect time.  It all boils down to trust and faith.

The POWER of Prayer!

As I mentioned in a prior post, the Hobby Unit, located in Marlin, Texas was an eye opening and scary experience for me during my short five week stay.  Hobby holds the unique distinction of being the worst women's prison in the United States.  On the drive over in the van, I could not figure out how I had come to be assigned to Hobby, a maximum security Unit.  It held the lifers and many of the most on-going violent criminals in the system.  I had never received a case for any violation since incarcerated, had a reputation among the officers for working hard and being respectful.  In fact most prisoners and officers who came to know me could not figure out why I was there...they always said I did not belong.  Most women I met had been drug users at one time or another and many of them said within minutes of meeting me "You've never done drugs, have you?"  The answer for me is "No, Never". 

In orientation the second day at Hobby, conducted by the Head of Security, we were informed the Unit was as bad as all the stories we had ever heard and perhaps worse.  When first arriving at Hobby we are housed in either Building 1 or Building 2, both are considered transitional buildings.  Building 1 is primarily for those in solitary confinement but takes overflow from those coming into the Unit.  Building 2 is for those coming in and those with behavior cases.  I was placed in Building 2.  There exist a lot of violence in those two buildings.  For example, the first week I was there, one woman, sitting on a bench watching TV, was approached from behind, and with razors her face was sliced up.  The Slicer put individual razors between her fingers and just started slashing.  There was no particular argument between the two, she was just present when the Slicer decided to do something to get attention.  The person doing the slicing was mad because her girlfriend was put in solitary confinement and she wanted to be in Building 1 with her.

I worked as an all night janitor, thankfully.  Those on the "hoe squad" went out in rain and worked in the fields with mud up to their knees some days.  The men officers overseeing them, on horses, call out obscenities to them all day and didn't allow them to use the bathroom, therefore they were having to relieve themselves in their clothes and if it was their period, they were left to bleed all over themselves.  My cell mate came home one day after one of these traumatic experiences, crying her eyes out.  Many of us gathered around her and helped the best we could with her mud and blood soaked clothes and shoes. 

We  lived in two-people cells and unlike other Units where the doors were left unlocked, ours' were locked and would only open for a few seconds at scheduled times.  We had to decide whether we wanted to be in the violence ridden day room or locked inside our cells.  Inside my cell was my choice so long as I had a cell mate that I felt safe with, which is what I had for the first two weeks.  At the end of two weeks I was transferred to Building 4, which in theory was considered a much better place to be.  

As I walked toward the cell door lugging my mattress, sheets, blanket and personal items I looked up at the woman standing outside the door.  When our eyes met she rolled her eyes, muttered some obscenities and went inside the cell.  I followed her in and knew I was in trouble.  This women did not like me.  She was 33 years old, had been in the TDCJ system for over 13 years.  She had a 40 year sentence for murdering a man while she was burglarizing his home at the age of 19.  She would be up for consideration of parole at 20 years, but did not expect to make parole.  She was completely institutionalized and angry.  She had a reputation for beating up her cell mates and others, and was in this building because she had not done it in a while.

She quickly informed me everything in the cell was hers.  All electric outlets, all hooks, shelves and tabletop.  She would allow me the bottom bunk and one storage unit below the bunk.  She went crazy when she found any of my hair on the floor (I am talking one strand of hair).  She hated my hair, my smell (I was clean!), my shoes, really everything about me.  She threatened to kill me quite often which I didn't take lightly.  I found myself living in absolute fear.  She made it clear that I better never say anything to an officer about her because she or one of her friends (she said she had them everywhere) would get me.  I wrote home A LOT but of course nobody from the outside could really help me either. 

I FINALLY GOT IT!  I started praying constantly....this must be what God was talking about...we had to get to the very end, where we had no place to turn, but to Him, to really see Him and what He could do for us.  I prayed for safety, I prayed thanking Him for my life and telling Him I wanted to live to go home to my family, I asked Him to move me to another place, I prayed that He might help my cell mate in some way that would make life easier and kinder for her.  And I sat on my bunk bed with my Bible opened and my eyes trained on His Word every moment we were locked in that cell together.  I felt a calm come over me.  She did notice my Bible and my reading of it and tended to back off more and more.  One day she even brought some Christian pamphlets to me, saying she thought I would like them...I thanked her and avidly read them. 

Her aggression became more focused outside the cell, in the day room, where she had screaming fights and physical fights, but was never reprimanded by the officers.  One day she asked me about my life before prison, what I did for a living.  She thought on that a couple days, then asked if I would write a letter for her regarding a property settlement issue (related to an oil & gas deal) she had with her mother's estate.  I did it, she liked it and signed it and sent it off right away.  Then she asked me to explain my case and the habeas process to her and I did.  She asked me if that might apply to her.  I didn't really know but was willing to help her write a couple letters requesting the advice she needed and possible representation.  We did those letters together.  That very night an officer came to our cell door following the 10:00 count and told me to pack up I was being transferred.

I was so excited, my prayers were answered!  I was being shipped to the Lockhart Unit, an air conditioned facility, minimum security, visits in person (rather than through a window, on a phone).  As I was leaving I wished my cell mate the best and she wished me the same.  I have often thought about her and prayed for her, although I will probably never see her again. 

God is so faithful.  He patiently waits for us.   He answers our prayers.  All glory is due Him.  I am just so grateful for His presence in my life.

A Light in the Darkness!

Whew...I need a break!  All these posts on man's justice system is giving me the willies.  I need to speak on something more positive and I have just the story to tell you.  I found a gem, amongst all the negativity in the prison and jail systems.  A bright light so strong, in the most unlikely of places.

Within the Texas women's prison system are several units that are scattered throughout the state.  Most are Texas Department of Criminal Justice ("TDCJ") units, owned and operated by the state.  Others are contract units owned and operated by third parties.  My first stop when I left the Dallas County Jail was at Woodman in Gatesville, which is a State diagnostics unit for all those entering the system. While there we were basically warehoused while they collected medical data, IQ testing, educational level testing and gathering of family/social information on us.  I resided at Woodman for approximately five months where I first worked as a night janitor, working from 6 pm until 4 am, scrubbing showers, toilets, floors, walls, etc.  After about six weeks they moved me to the kitchen where I had various functions, eventually working my way up to the esteemed "cook" position.  My hours in the kitchen were from 1 am to 10 am.

Then one night (always after 10 pm) they said you will be transferred the next morning.  So I spent that night packing my very few belongings and going through the inventory process with an officer.  It takes most the night, then the usual breakfast is about 4:00 and a couple hours later we were handcuffed, thrown in a van and driven to the Hobby Unit in Marlin, Texas.  I was only there 5 weeks.  The Hobby Unit has the unique distinction of being the worst women's prison in the United States.  I will tell you about my 5 weeks there in a post all its own.  For now I want to focus on my most positive experience during those three years of incarceration.  Following the Hobby unit I was transferred to a contract prison in Lockhart, Texas which was owned and operated by a company called GEO Group, Inc. (traded on NYSE, a profitable business).  I just checked the stock, it is selling for $24.67 per share this morning and has the highest profit/earnings ratio in the industry. (Sorry, can't stop myself!  Once an accountant, always an accountant!)  They provide minimum security prison units to states.  I am pretty sure I know what corners they cut to get those profits.  I won't list those for you now...as I promised ...this is a positive post!

The Lockhart unit is where I eventually found my way to the Faith Dorm.  We had to request this program, explain our reason for wanting it and then go through an interview process.   People who had a history of behavior problems (i.e. any rule violations) are not considered.  By the way, I called us "people", but we were not known as people, we were referred to as "Offenders" and that is how we were to announce our presence at locked doors, etc.  Anyway, I will continue to use the word "people" as that is what I believe we were (and are).  The Faith Dorm housed 50 women, two women per cell with a large day room.  You can see the picture of the women in the Faith Dorm.  I'm in there but I'm not telling you where as I did not have any makeup on.  You can see the doors behind the women, those were our cells and contained two metal beds (about 3' by 6'), a wall cabinet, a small table top and stool, a toilet and a sink.  Everything was attached to the walls and floor, they must have been afraid we would steal their stuff.

In the middle of this two story "dorm" was a day room.  It had all the tables and chairs for our meals and in the case of the Faith Dorm that  is where we sat for our program, taking notes at a rapid rate as the information we were receiving was the greatest message on earth.

The name of the organization providing the program is "God of Hope Ministries" and is based out of Austin.  The women lecturing us represented many denominations... Baptists, Episcopalians, Methodists to name a few.  The program was very structured.  We received many books, including an amazing annotated study Bible.  Our devotional was "Jesus Calling" by Sarah Young and there were more books to augment the study of the books in the Bible and bringing that message to our daily lives.  We studied both old testament and new testament and correlations between the two were made.   We had daily homework.  Our day started with breakfast about 4:30 am, then we do any chores.  Next was individual time used for daily devotionals.  Many people had several devotional books so they spent time in each.  We were told to study over the daily devotions and pray accordingly.  You could hear a pin drop during this time, the respect for each other and God was awesome.  We were all expected to keep daily journals of what came from daily devotionals and any other personal thoughts throughout the day, all of which was reviewed.  We were held accountable for all assignments and our journal. 

The structured program/speaker would typically start about 8:30 or 9:00  and would run to lunch time, with one hour for lunch, then resume at 1:00 and usually go to about 4:30.  At which time we had to prepare for dinner, do chores and start our assignments.  After dinner we had our assignments to work on and could otherwise attend prison-wide church services and Bible studies.  Many of us would study further into the night and then start again about breakfast time.  It was rigorous, I learned more about the Bible and its teachings than I had throughout all my years being raised in a church and attending church as an adult.  Remember in a prior blog I talked about pretending I was in a nunnery to get through some of the toughest days while at Dallas County Jail.  Well, you know what they say, your imagination becomes your reality.  It truly did, with this Faith Dorm.  At our meals we would have intellectual and heart-filled conversations about all we learned for the day and our various perspectives.  It seemed Jesus filled our every moment.  There was just no time for gossip or other trouble making activities.

And when we all sang it was angelic...it always brought tears to my eyes.  The dorm was two stories and the acoustics were just God inspired.  I felt like I was in a different world, totally separate from the prison.  Our hearts were just lifted up to God. The speakers and program volunteers were respectful toward us and we were treated like intelligent human beings.  We were not treated like dirt as many of the officers were inclined to do.  When people are treated with respect, they tend to respond in the best way.  It created a learning environment equal to any university I ever attended.  And we were each very supportive of one another in our progress and learnings.  There was an occasional nasty remark among us, but it was confronted and resolved immediately.  If there was something that seemed irreconcilable, then it was brought to the program volunteers, nothing was left to fester, as part of the skills we were learning as we became stronger and stronger Christians.

I did not really see any rehabilitation happening among the women prisons.  But, with its intensity, this program was the key to changing its participants lives and beyond much of what is even offered in the free world .  And, how often do we have time for such a commitment in our busy lives in the free world, between work, family and friends.  While in this program, I came to believe this must have been how God made good the most difficult situation in my life, just like one of my favorite verses says: 

Romans 8:28  And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to His purpose.

If you are interested in what I've I told you here, you can look further at their website www.thegodofhope.org  They are "A Bridge of Hope from Prison to New Life".  These are some of the best people I have ever met in my life.  I do miss them, although I have no desire to go back to prison.  I have thought long and hard about becoming involved in prison ministry for the remainder of my life as a result of this program.

The Body Brokers

I spent nineteen months in the Dallas County Jail following my trial.  I was staying at County because of my appeal, otherwise I would have gone on down to the penitentiary ("TDCJ").   I had lived a rather sheltered life up to this time, being raised in a middle class home where manners, consideration for others and respect of each other and self were paramount, along with attending weekly church and church activities.  The day I was pushed into Lew Sterrett I felt like I entered into the stratosphere of another planet.  I had a long way to go to get to the surface of this new planet.

My own background, both as a child and then as a grown up was very different from most people I met in County or TDCJ.   My past included seven years at the university while working three part time jobs adding up to a full time(+) job with a full schedule at school and a bicycle for transportation.  Upon graduation I moved into the business world.  My first professional job at a CPA firm required at least eighty hours per week.  I buried myself in my work, believing that is what a person does who wants to advance in their career, never giving it a second thought.  As I moved to other companies I did the same, long hours, focused on the job, with very little social time. Likewise when I had my family, but I did the balancing act between my children and my self employed financial business.  Quite often continuing my work day after I put my kids to bed.  I never really questioned it, I was doing what I loved....being a mom and a financial and accounting consultant.  Then there was the development of The NOAH Project and I just added that to my daily to-do list.  Although somewhat over committed, I still thrived on the excitement of meeting work deadlines and the joys and challenges that come with parenthood of a special needs child and his precocious younger brother. 

So, with disoriented feelings of frustration, anger and sadness I plunged into the jail culture and came to know the people around me. I dedicated one of my book excerpts to the people of the oldest profession - The Prostitutes!  An interesting group of people.  Following is the excerpt:

The county jail, if nothing else, has a high volume of prostitutes, shuffling in and out.  Many are toothless, skin and bones, with tracks all over their arms, legs, hands, stomachs, breasts, necks and any other place where a visible vein could be found.  Quite often with absesses, dripping liquid infection, sharing our toilets, sinks and showers.  No antobiotics as the county seemed rarely concerned about the health of any inmate; all of us considered scum of the earth, scabs on society (no matter how we got there).

In the many months I have sat in this jail, moving from one tank to another, I have had the bewildering opportunity to observe the lifestyle and beliefs of the prostitutes which I have come to call the body brokers.  Being in the body broker business and hating men, their major customers, causes a need to medicate.  On the streets it is heroine, crack, ice and powder.  In the jail it is seroquil, thorazine, hydrocodone.....  just a transference of addictions to get them by until they are dumped on the street again.   Every single women I met who participated in this business had memories of being sexually abused as children.  They had been medicating their pain for most of their lives, finding drugs and alcohol at early ages.  There seemed no way out for them.

Interesting enough, these body brokers don't limit their selling/buying skills to bodies.  They would put Avon ladies and Fuller Brush salesmen to shame.  They buy and sell pills, soap, coffee, candy, honey buns and state issued panties and bras.  The buy/sell system is not allowed but happens anyway.  It is a barter system since cash and credit are no longer available.  On the streets it is services, stolen property and drugs.  It never stops, so long as they are awake, there is a deal going down.  It is the thrill of the transaction....in that one aspect, no different than real estate or stock brokers.  Equal to insurance brokers.  They don't retire, it ceases to be about the money; they get high on the thought of doing the next deal and the next deal.  Another addiction?  Probably.

What will be gained?  Clear economic theory, matching demand and supply and getting something, anything, for making the connection, the "broker fee".  Never missing an opportunity.  Selling their souls, just for the game, the win, the challenge of doing it and getting away with it.  Conscience does not appear to be a part of this game.  The concept of right and wrong has long been buried deep, deep, deep in the lesioned recesses of gray matter...forgotten forever.

Hmmm, this is beginning to sound a bit like the case against me.  It was the gaming, the hustle, nothing personal...just another business deal.  An easy insurance scam, just another days work.  Just another conviction, the thrill of the courtroom drama.  Just another arrest, the adrenalin that comes with over powering somebody with the authority that goes with the uniform and title.  Part of the thrill may even be the escape from any consequences.  Immunity....

Prostitute?  What is the definition anyway?  Let's see...in the Merriam-Webster dictionary I have here it says....."to devote to corrupt or unworthy purposes".  Golly, could it be?  Do we have soul brokers....at a much "higher" level?  Bringing new souls into each new conspiracy?  Always growing the pot and stirring furiously.  Money or threats lure them in, with promises of a lasting position or freedom in the dark hierachy.  Sharpening their teeth on false depositions and testimonies.  Dripping souless black ooze from their dark hearts.  Absesses everywhere in what used to be their conscience.  Good Lord help me with these corallaries.  I am just saddened, what we humans have done to Your world.

This is a tough writing, with a lot of darkness, a pervasive influence in the jail and prison environments.  It has never been clear to me how we are rehabbing people.  Why aren't those prostitutes and extreme drug addicts put into intense therapy, getting to the core of their issues, then placed in real jobs as a follow up?  It is the only chance they have.  They are just turned out after a few days, weeks or months (rarely do they go on to prison).  There appears to be a revolving door at the county jail for this group of women.  Is that because society needs them as they are?  Is that because it keeps the arrest and conviction rates at near 100% thus assuring jobs and re-election for the DA?  I believe I have touched on a true societal issue.  It is this bad, don't ever think otherwise....and is starving for a solution from us, as fellow humans.

And, whoever thought of immunity?  What's that all about?  Why isn't everybody held  accountable?

The Newsweek Essay Contest

My dear cousin, Nancy, figured out a way to keep me busy and challenged while I was incarcerated.  Nancy writes the blog, "Minding My Own Business" (http://shilohpup-nwc.blogspot.com/) a very fun blog.  She knew I liked to write also so she found me the Newsweek essay contest called "My Turn Editor".  At once I set out making entries to the contest.  I rarely was able to watch anything of significance on the TV but I was lucky enough to see O'bama's first Address to the Nation and I had some thoughts I wanted to share...they seemed important at the time.  Following is my cover letter and essay entry, it reveals some more of that inside information, although at a very different level.

February 16, 2009

My Turn Editor
Newsweek
251 West 57th Street
New York, NY  10019-1894

Dear Sir or Madam:

I previously wrote on February 4, 2009 explaining my situation.  I want to make entries to your contest but am unable to obtain use of a computer to email my entries, as I am incarcerated with my case currently under appeal.

I have enclosed my second entry to your contest regarding O'bama's recent Address to the Nation.  Hopefully you will consider it for your contest as I believe I have a unique perspective which may be of interest to your readers.


Thank you in advance for your consideration of my entry.


Sincerely yours,


Audrey A. White

LESSONS FROM THE PAST

     O'bama's Address to the Nation was interesting and felt like a rerun movie to me.  He talked about the lack of confidence in banks and the FDIC's ability.  This reminds me of the Savings & Loan institutions/banks and the FSLIC/FDIC situation of the late 1980's.  I worked through all aspects of that as an accounting and finance consultant to this country's #1 real estate developer of the time, The Trammell Crow Company.  There are many parallels to be drawn.  Oddly enough the benefit of the bailout did not necessarily go to the average American citizens but filtered back to the moneyed people. 

     Here is how it worked.  In the 1980's the real estate market (both commercial and multi-family housing) became grossly overbuilt, as a result of tax shelters and lenient lending practices.  The 1986 Tax Reform Act was passed phasing out the tax shelter in passive investments and overnight the equity markets dried up.  The real estate market, being overbuilt left extremely high vacancy rates throughout the country.  Real estate developments could no longer pay their debt service.  In a loss situation these real estate interests were unable to turn to the equity partners for funding since they could no longer write off the losses.  Consequently there was massive defaults on loans as real estate entities could not pay the interest on these huge loan balances, much less the monthly amortization of principal.  

     Throughout the nation lending institutes were forced to foreclose or work-out a debt restructure on their real estate loans.  With the high vacancies the reduced  value of the collateral for those loans became evident, the values had taken a nose dive.  The lending institutes no longer held appropriate collateral and for all the foreclosures they were left holding over-valued real estate, negatively impacting their liquidity ratios.  FSLIC and FDIC (to a lesser extent) were forced to close down high volumes of financial institutions, paying back depositors their insured funds, depleting FSLIC and FDIC sources and now leaving these government agencies with enormous inventory of deflated real estate properties.

     While most small and medium sized developers went bankrupt, the belief among the few large developers, was the market was simply correcting itself for inflated values created by the FUNNY MONEY, and was long over due.  The men I worked for did not see this economic upheaval as a bad thing but an opportunity.

     The effect of this "correction" was to clear out the little men and remove the middle men and allowed the big guys to get bigger, as they reorganized and took advantage of the bailout money.  They were seen as weathering the storm although they too had many foreclosures and bankruptcies among their thousands of individual real estate entities (several tiers of entities for each property).  They had clearly participated in the use of the FUNNY MONEY, collecting their fees on the front end of each real estate deal and minimizing their exposure.  They knew the markets were overbuilt but so long as the money was there, they were building.  They were eventually given preferential treatment in the work-outs because the lending institutions and insuring government agencies could not continue to grow or maintain their real estate portfolios.

      The major developers were now recognized as the experts in real estate (unlike the government bureaucrats), those having the know-how to reverse and correct bad construction, manage the lease up and sale of properties (albeit at rock bottom prices).  They were given the work and received substantial fees from the government to get it done.

     In addition, the major developers formed joint ventures with major investment sources, like Mutual Benefit and Paine Webber.  They created what they called "Vulture Funds" and bought these properties at reduced prices from FSLIC and FDIC and continuing lending institutes, hence relieving the real estate-heavy balance sheets of lenders and government agencies and further enriching themselves with real estate that had no place to go but up.

     The acquisition fees, development fees, rehab fees plus property and asset management fees grew exponentially for these wealthy few.  The shift of wealth in this country only moved up the food chain with average Americans remaining very much the same.  Yes, jobs were created, but at the bottom of the pay scale.  The labor force was paid little because so many were unemployed and seeking to put food on the table.  The usual equation was in place - too much supply, not enough demand: therefore labor rates low and consequently, profits to the few remained high.  The major real estate developers continued to rake in the majority of the bailout money.

    Today we have a similar situation in many ways.  Therefore, the hard questions for O'bama's Stimulus Bill have to be asked:

• Does bailout reward bad behavior?   YES 
• Is it irresponsible to do nothing?   YES
• Does transparency and accountability need to be in place?   ABSOLUTELY
• Who needs to see this transparency and accountability?  THE AMERICAN PEOPLE.  The data should be made public.  In looking at the transparency, look at arm's length transactions.  As part of that information - the examination must include disclosure of who is benefiting - who is behind the corporate and partnership veils - who are the shareholders and who are the partners/employees receiving the bailouts and profits generated.  Take a hard look at employees and consultants being paid within these entities.  Notice who owns the businesses they do business with.  Is it the same people?

     Correction of the system is painful for many.  If we do not learn from the past, then, in another 20 years we will be revisiting once again the underlying cause - shoddy economic policy.  Having lenient lending practices in an attempt to boost the economy is always short lived and will always cost us a lot of energy and resources that could otherwise be used for a greater cause.

     Perhaps if Bush was not so set on trying to convince the American people that our economy was strong and we had no problems and if we were not so set on needing to believe him, then we would not be in this situation again.  Now the history lessons are here and all of us will need to heed this knowledge in our quest to become much more responsible citizens, as O'bama has called us to be.

It was not published as you may have guessed.  In retospect, this might have been useful information.  At any rate, the essay contest served its purpose...it gave me a purpose and some goals.  All vitally important in maintaining sanity.  They may have surrounded me with bars, walls and locks but they could not keep my thoughts inside their walls nor would I allow them to take away my beliefs.