My experience at Folsom State Prison for Book Club

Until recently, I had been completely unaware of the realities of life behind bars for inmates. My perceptions had been shaped by the skewed portrayals found in movies and media, but I had never bought into the misconception that inmates were uniformly uneducated, devoid of passions, and to be feared. Despite my three years in the legal field, nothing had prepared me for the eye-opening experience of attending my first book club meeting at Folsom State Prison last month.

I must confess, I approached the visit with a mixture of nerves and anticipation, eager to witness firsthand the intricacies of prison life and to engage with the inmates on a personal intellectual level. As an aspiring Criminal Defense attorney, I knew that this encounter would offer invaluable insights into my future career and clientele. In the words of Attorney Bryan Stevenson, "Each of us is more than the worst thing we've ever done."

As we passed through security and made our way to the prison library, I felt a profound shift in my perception. Everything I thought I knew about life behind bars was swiftly challenged. The scene that greeted me was unlike anything I had anticipated: inmates laughing in groups, cleaning the makeshift classroom, managing the front desk as well as IT, and engrossed in their studies on laptops. The atmosphere was unexpectedly familiar, similar to any other library I had visited.

Their demeanor struck me immediately—polite, respectful, with warm greetings extended as we entered. As we stepped into the reading room, where about 15 inmates awaited our arrival, I was struck by the sense of calm. Despite being surrounded by individuals labeled as convicted felons, I felt an unexpected readiness to immerse myself in the experience, eager to absorb all that I could learn..

We kicked off the session with introductions, with Dhaksha and I going first. We shared our career aspirations, the motivations behind our involvement, and our academic journeys. Their immediate gratitude and well wishes took us aback. Some even confessed to their attempts at self-study of the law, highlighting their determination to understand their own cases. As we went around the table, each participant shared about themselves, revealing that some were enrolled in college and completing a degree behind bars. There was an array of academic pursuits—writers, sociologists, educators, and yes, even lawyers among them. Their sense of hope and yearning for change resonated deeply among each of them.

What struck me most were the stories of resilience in the face of decades-long incarceration. It was humbling to realize that some had been cut off from modern technology for longer than I've been alive. In that moment, the tendency to view individuals solely through the lens of their mistakes became painfully evident. It was a sharp reminder of the dehumanizing impact of societal judgment. Yet, it was also a moment of profound understanding—that within the confines of this room, I stood to learn more than I ever had before..

The facilitation commenced with the revelation that the group had recently delved into both the film "Hotel Rwanda" and the book "After Genocide: Memory and Reconciliation in Rwanda" by Dr. Fox. As each inmate shared their personal connections to these works and drew parallels between them, the room crackled with passion for topics ranging from race and trauma to restoration and genocide.

What struck me deeply was the diversity represented within the group—all members hailed from minority backgrounds. Each person had a powerful story to share, shedding light on their experiences with injustice within the justice system. One individual even compared the prison system to a form of genocide, a thought-provoking observation that sparked discussion and critical thinking.

Throughout the ensuing two hours, the conversation remained lively and thought-provoking. Inmates posed analytical questions and engaged in respectful debates, delving into the complexities of the topics at hand. In a touching moment, one individual bravely opened up about the mistakes that led them to prison and their journey towards forgiveness, soul-searching, and reconciliation with the victim's family. The support from their peers was evident, demonstrating the profound sense of community that had been cultivated within the group.

Witnessing the camaraderie and mutual respect among the inmates was nothing short of inspiring—a testament to the power of human connection and the potential for growth and healing even within the confines of a prison setting.

As the two-hour mark approached, we began to wrap up our session, but the inmates showed no signs of slowing down. They were eager for more discussions and had a plethora of questions still lingering in their minds. Some even approached us afterward to express how profoundly impactful the book club had been for them. They shared how it had given them a newfound sense of purpose and an opportunity for introspection. Many revealed their aspirations for life beyond bars, whether it be pursuing higher education, obtaining certifications, or mastering a trade.

Their sentiments yet again proved the transformative power of literature and the invaluable privilege of access to knowledge. As I left Folsom State Prison, I carried with me a wealth of insights into the lives of inmates and the realities of incarceration. The stereotypes I once harbored had been replaced by a deeper understanding. It ignited within me an even greater commitment to supporting programs like these, which play a crucial role in the rehabilitation and empowerment of incarcerated individuals.

"It is said that no one truly knows a nation until one has been inside its jails. A nation should not be judged by how it treats its highest citizens, but its lowest ones. May your choices reflect your hopes, not your fears."

-Nelson Mandela