heavy eyelids, heavy hearts

I spent the last four hours at the Oregon State Penitentiary with a dozen other students and fifteen inmates getting to know each other and being thrown into the hugest whirlwind of a "first day of class" I've ever experienced.  I'm taking part in an amazing program called Inside Out that combines University students with inmates who are either degree-seeking while they are incarcerated, or simply want to be a part of the class for a learning experience outside of their normal lives in prison.  At first thought, the class seemed like it would be an interesting and thought provoking experience to be able to be a part of during my final few months at Oregon State; so I applied!  As luck (or fate) would have it, I got into the class and didn't think much of it past that... until this weekend.  I was honestly super excited for the class, and wasn't nervous at all.

The ride over to Salem tonight with a few of my other classmates was all well and fine, none of us seemed nervous or apprehensive about the class - in fact, we barely even talked about it.  Upon entering the prison, the drive on I-5 seemed like years ago, the openness of being "outside" didn't seem to exist there.  Yeah, I was unnerved.  We went through security, then through general population for about two minutes which was honestly two of the most nerve racking two minutes of my entire year, then into a big open classroom to wait for the "Insiders" (inmates at OSP who will be taking this class with us all term).  They filed in and we went through the motions of shaking hands and making awkward small talk.  The man who ended up sitting across from me told me that this is his third Inside-Out class, and he keeps applying for the class because it's like an extended visit time, which he only gets once a week from his father.  He seemed so genuinely interested in talking to me and hearing about what I was studying in school - you know that cliche question "what's your major?" well he asked it in a way that I honestly had never experienced before, like, he actually gave a shit.

We spent the better part of two hours getting to know our new classmates, sharing stories, telling stupid jokes and doing a few lame icebreaker type games that actually ended up facilitating conversation pretty well.  The end of class was spent considering the meaning behind this quote: "The degree of civilization in a society can be judged by entering it's prisons."  The conversation spun away from that topic, but the things we ended up covering were so personal and such deeply misunderstood things in my own life that I couldn't help myself from crying.  Being brought to tears in a group of inmates and perfect strangers (with the exception of a few people I've had classes with) is not a comfortable feeling, yet I didn't feel like I was doing something taboo or strange by letting my emotions overcome me.  It was such an overwhelming experience, I'm confused at how every other person made it out of those prison walls without shedding a tear or two.

When it came time to end the class, I don't think anybody wanted to leave.  It was such a surreal experience to get to hear these men's life stories and the experiences that led them to the situations they're in currently, and then also to be able to share our perspectives as people who have grown up in a world so opposite of theirs.  I can honestly say I've never been this excited about a college course in my entire life, and I'm already looking forward to next Monday.  The trip back to Corvallis wasn't as somber as I'd expected it to be.  It was lightly raining and the I-5 was more or less empty at 9:30pm on a Monday night, which was actually almost enjoyable.  I only wish I'd been with people whom I was comfortable enough with to really express my emotions about the visit, and my hopes for next week and the rest of the term.  My heart is heavy tonight, but also hopeful.