As I lay in bed, a crisp chill is around the windowsill and I’m looking at the snow falling in large beautiful flakes. Each flake has its own design, and I’m thinking that like everything else in creation, so do fingerprints.

           Because the bed I’m lying on is not my own. It is my bunk, in a large dorm of about 40 other women. And I somehow feel lucky, even locked up, that I have a bed right next to the window, where as the seasons change I get a certain show of beauty from mother nature. 

Shit. A while ago I was an officer in prison, and here I am an inmate. I’m on probation for bringing drugs into a prison. And now I’m in lockdown. Being an officer, they thought I would get beat up. They told me not to tell the inmates I was an officer.

So many proudfelt moments in everyone’s life and one of the best joys that make it so great are being able to share the moments with those that truly care, that understand and feel its importance to you and see the joy in your accomplishment. You spent your life living disappointment, where your only accomplishment was being part of the conversation. 

             Point is there is/was someone there. 

At 15 I started smoking weed. I know it wasn't the best idea, but I did anyway. I smoked weed for two years and at 17 I was arrested for burglary and robbery. I broke into the Dunkin Donuts next to my house. I took a cash register that had $200 in it. The person that suggested that we rob the place took all the money and told the police where I was and called the store to tell them where the cash register was.

I was recently arrested for possession of a firearm. I was careless and doing the wrong thing at the wrong time. I was lucky when I was arrested because I was released the next day with an electronic monitoring device. I was given the ankle monitor and asked to return to court the following month. I was under house arrest, and I did not do well.

If it ain’t already enough being in prison, they have the audacity to have a place called the hole.

Shackled walking down this hallway still shackled thinking could I really be getting out of here no one knew I was here. I had been here 143 days now I’m finally being unchained and led into this giant cage in the middle of a room surrounded by empty office chairs and desks. I had dressed out of the green county corrections uniform and the orange and white Velcro shoes and back into my own slightly snugger pants and top...

I am serving a life sentence. NO, do not judge me. I did not kill anyone and NO, there are no human victims in my criminal case. I am just a white-collar criminal, who is carrying on her shoulders the weight of a restitution of more than 22 million dollars... YES, did you hear me? More than 22 million dollars.

After going back and forth to prison for most of my 20s I started to actually pay attention to what was really going on. I had met so many females with so many crazy stories it was like the odds was stacked against them from the start.

The dictionary describes jail as a place for the confinement of people accused or convicted of a crime. This definition is 100% true but there is a deeper definition especially for those who have personally dealt with incarceration, like I. The most basic fact that everybody knows is that your freedom gets taken away, so does your dignity… As an incarcerated individual, you get absolutely no respect. How could you expect that when you have committed a crime?

I wake up to do my normal routine and decided to go do my laundry early on a Thursday morning. It to me seemed like everything was ok... As I'm packing my laundry to leave a detective walked through the laundromat and I'm not thinking anything from that so I continue to walk out the back door.

First of all, let me give praise to the most high!

Jail to me was a hard lesson to learn. Back in my days 80s 90s we had rules now there is no rules… Back there you had to have permission to rumble now they just free fall. Jail taught me structure respect and not to judge a man.