Our ASL program was created and instituted within the prison in record time. Normally, change moved at a snail’s pace inside the facility, but the fresh idea and building excitement among the inmates seemed to be just the impetus needed to motivate prison administration to get things done on this project.
We had a surprising number of prisoners take an interest in learning sign language, so before long the program took on wings of its own. Learning something new and having a reason to wake up each morning seemed to breathe new life into the formerly gloomy common rooms.
I suddenly felt like I had a purpose in building a viable occupational skill for after my release. The feeling seemed to be contagious, giving us all hope for a brighter future. When faced with the choice of wasting our time rotting away our brains and bodies in prison or learning a useful and valid skillset, many of the ladies chose to make the most of their time here.
Once we had a mission, the days seem to roll by faster. Rather than the glum monotony we had grown used to, we now learned something new each day and practiced what we had already learned. Before long, it seemed like half the prison was signing as they spoke, in order to hone our craft.
Feeling left out, some of the guards even started learning to sign. For the first time, we were all working towards a common goal. A sense of camaraderie was forged between us, replacing the hatred and conflicting interests that had always simmered just under the surface of our relationships.
As my release date approached, I could feel a glimmer of hope building inside me that my future might actually be somewhat bright. My plan was to stay with Tanya for a short while, until I could get my finances in order. She had proven herself to be a true friend by visiting me once a month and keeping my commissary account funded.
I would find a job where I could work as an interpreter, using my newly sharpened ASL skills. It would pay more than I had ever made working as a waitress in the diner, so I would be able to cover Nana’s expenses, pay Tanya back what I owed her, and eventually find a modest place of my own to move into. I also planned to make sure Aunt Bea and the other girls’ commissary accounts stayed funded. It would be challenging, but I would make it work, and I would never again take a single day of freedom for granted. Living in the moment was going to be my new mantra.
The night before my release, my jittery nerves began to kick into high gear. What if I couldn’t make it out in the real world? I’d been relatively safe and cared for in prison. What if everyone on the outside saw me only as a convicted criminal? Would anyone be able to see past that and view me as a real person?
I couldn’t help voicing some of my concerns to Aunt Bea. “What if no one will hire me? Or rent an apartment to me?” My face was scrunched up with fear and worry. “I think I want to stay in here a little while longer.”
“Don’t you say that to me, young lady.” Aunt Bea’s voice sounded firm. I sat at attention and listened to her. She took my hand within her own liver-spotted one. Her grip was cool and clammy. Looking me directly in the eyes, she said, “You are a very special young lady. You are talented, smart-as-a-whip, funny, kind-hearted, and brave.”
When I started to shake my head to deny having all of those wonderful attributes, she squeezed my hand to stop me from speaking. “You are going to go out there tomorrow and be bold. You are going to earn what you deserve, and you are going to make Aunt Bea proud.”
Her voice sounded so fervent and sincere, I had no choice but to nod in agreement. She believed in me enough for the both of us. Her confidence in my abilities made me feel strong and worthy.
“I’ll never forget you.” My eyes were filled with tears because I knew that Aunt Bea wasn’t going to be released anytime soon. I wished that I could take her and the rest of the gang with me.
“Don’t you go worrying about me,” she instructed. “I’ll be just fine. You worry about you and making your life the best it can be. That’s all I need.”
I gave my prison mentor and protector a tight hug. Pulling back I made the sign for “I love you.”
Not one for mushy, emotional scenes, Aunt Bea ordered me. “Aw, now, go on back to your bunk before you make me a blubbering mess. You need a good night’s rest because tomorrow is your big day.”