Jesus remember me, when you come into your kingdom.

Kind of been dropping the ball lately on this blogging thing. This semester (particularly these past few weeks) seems to have just kicked itself into high gear, and its about all I can do to stay caught up. Haven't made it down to Jackson in quite awhile. Things seem to keep getting in my way of being able to get down there in the mornings. Between classes, papers, keynotes, and family, I just haven't found the time. Hoping that next week I will make it there.

Yesterday, the class was able to take at trip to Dekalb County Jail out there on Memorial and I-285. You can't miss it. 8 stories of concrete and steel with small slits of widows sliced throughout. It's quite possibly one of the most intimidating and sad buildings to look at. So we make it there, wait around for awhile (these places arent used to student groups it seems), and get shown around by a veteran guard. All in all it took about an hour and a half, and we didn't even see a quarter of the facility.

This was one of the most isolating and disorienting places I have ever witnessed. Stan warned us and asked us to take note of the disorienting layout of the building. Within just a few minutes, just a few hallways, just a few doors, all sense of direction was replaced by the seemingly miles of the institutional brick and tiles. See passed through intake, where dozens of men and women (segregated into different areas) awaited processing. Those were some seriously blank stares. The intake room is front line, the first place after the back of a squad car of course, where things start getting real, reality starts setting in.

We continued through the panopticonic set up of the jail in which a grouping of 5 - 2 story lockups are controlled by 2 guards in a central operating room. The "panopticon" is the most modern form of inmate housing. Big Brother in the control room sees, hears, and controls everything through switches of buttons, speakers, and microphones. The isolation is unbelievable. There are no bars at this jail. Large sectional rooms warded off by concrete walls on the sides, and humongous unbreakable glass panes at the front. Aside from the occasional buzz of the automated locks or boom from an inmate pounding on the glass, the place was eerily quite, much more quiet than the state prison. A classmate noted later that this place seemed much more like a zoo, with caged "animals" stuck behind thick glass,removed from the world and removed from each other.

Our guide, a former Marine now working through his 13th year with the county, seemed awfully jaded in his outlook, and inlook I suppose, regarding the jail. He assists in a "Scared Straight Program" and that is pretty much exactly how he spoke to us. "You don't want to end up here," he said quite frequently, "You wouldn't believe the messed up stuff people in here have done." Yes, he is correct on both accounts; correct but incomplete. I don't want to end up in there and odds are I won't, and I'm sure I would be awe struck at finding out the details of many of the crimes committed by the inmates too. What about the "messed up stuff" that occurs because of that jail and because of our "prisons are the answer" mentality?

I am thoroughly convinced that isolation inhibits rehabilitation in probably 99% of inmates, in fact isolation exacerbates the anger, mental health problems, and control issues that got these people into trouble in the first place. Our guide estimated mental health problems among inmates to be around 30%. I call BS!! Being in that kind of environment for any period of time will cause even the most mentally sane person to absolutely lose their minds, much less someone who comes in already unstable.

Well, as I am 35,000 feet in the air about to descend into LaGuardia, I got to wrap it up. On this Maundy Thursday, I am reminded, and I hope to remind you, to pray, "Jesus remember me, when you come into your kingdom."