I spent most of my Saturday at a maximum security prison; not because I became an offender since we chatted last, but because I was going through some volunteer training to be part of a program called InnerChange Freedom Initiative (IFI). A good chunk of the general training session was dry. The gal giving the talk tried to make it somewhat interactive, but the gist of her lecture was “Here are the rules. If you break the rules we rip off your volunteer badge.” I understand the rigidity of the prison, and did not protest when they fingerprinted me and made me sign a pile of papers, it was a reminder that this was serious stuff and nobody just waltzes into a high security prison. But I would have to say that those hours in the classroom were not what I would freely refer to as “fun”. After this segment of the day lethargically crept by, the leaders of IFI came into the room to do a bit of their own training for a smaller percentage of us who wanted to escape with the rest of the lot. But before we raced out of the classroom we quickly realized that the IFI program directors were like a breath of fresh air. One of the first things they did was feed us lunch. Come to me beautiful Subway sandwich! Next, they shared real life stories of transformation in the lives of prisoners, and talked about the struggles and strengths of their program. I went away feeling greatly encouraged and super-glad that I was with IFI and not some other program. It struck me afterwards, though, that all of the volunteer programs are striving for the same thing: they aim to break the cycle of offenders getting out of prison and then jumping back in because of difficulties they might face in mainstream society, and because of the unforgiving chain of bad decision making skills. Each of those programs have their own method to achieve the goal of changing convicts. I believe IFI has a very high success rate, but even there, change is not a piece of cake. You gotta really want change to make it happen.
The day after my time in prison, I drove to Branson, Missouri to hang out with my friend Caroline. We went to Silver Dollar City that afternoon. Caroline and I decided to see A Christmas Carol, because Branson is already fancy-free and holiday-happy this early in November. Caroline informed me that The Christmas Carol was “good”, and I agreed to go with a “Sure, I don’t care what we do.” kind of attitude. After the production was finished, I walked away incredibly impressed. I was impressed because of the professionalism behind it all: the ornate rotating set, the costumes, the quality of actors and the creativity that went into making a well known story enjoyable to watch ONCE AGAIN. Some of the sweet notes from one particular vocalist were so glorious and poignant that my eyes were forced to become watery as I sat there in a sea of audience members. Of course, the main message behind the Christmas Carol centers around the non-stagnant state of Scrooge. As we see him wrestle with his bed curtains after each encounter with the Christmas Spirits, our gut feeling (and previous experiences) tell us that Scrooge isn’t going to be the same miserly humbug he once was. He’s going to change… or at least we know he has the choice to change.
I am currently not a prisoner or a miserly old man, but I recognize that I have the choice set before me to change: to change for better or for worse. Positive change is always tough. The worm probably doesn’t look forward to what takes place in a cocoon, but almost everybody would say that the new creature is much better than the old one. So cheers to butterflies! Cheers to dancing, singing, rich elderly men on Christmas day. And here’s a cheer for convicts who have managed to assimilate back into society outside of prison walls, and who have genuinely undergone change… not an easy thing, for sure.
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