Radford Noone Research Service

climbing your family tree

Mighty Drofdar

What Does Your Daughter Think of Sex Offenders?: Lessons in Being Non-Judgmental

 

In a one-on-one conversation on families and children, David asked me straightforward, “What does your daughter think about you coming down here and working with sex offenders?” I really had to think about this. The question itself was insightful on several levels. One was that to even be talking about sex offenders in the LDS family history center showed that he felt safe. Yes, the Mormons have provided a safe environment and a refuge for sex offenders and everybody else. Yet in light of the fact that sex offenders are at the bottom of the prison social ladder, and they know it, makes feeling safe very important in the rehabilitation process. That’s at one level.

At another level the fact that David would be open about his crime to me, and many of the sex offenders have, shows that I am trusted to be non-judgmental. The guys owe me absolutely nothing, and I never need an explanation as to why they are in prison. Still many want to tell me. Now that’s courage to tell anybody about being a sex offender, whether that means rape, sex with a minor (she said she was 18), oral sex, object rape, sodomy, or pedophilia. In the beginning I felt like I was being tested by some of the guys. Will he accept us or not? Well discussing your sex crime with Dwight is a sure way to find out I suppose. Apparently I have passed. Now I don’t feel like I’m being tested anymore. It’s just a conversation like hundreds of others during my day. This is deep to me on this second more personal level.

As I thought about his question, I realized that David was coming at it from the perspective of a mature father with grandchildren. With his head of grey hair, lines in his face, and ability to think deeper than men younger than he, maybe what he was really wondering in his mind was whether or not he would be accepted when he got out. As I thought about his question, I realized that I had raised my daughter to be accepting of people (non-judgmental) and to know when to stay in her own business and allow people the gift to travel their own path. That pretty much sums it up. I taught her to accept people whether they were straight or gay, Mormon or non-Mormon (we are in Utah), rich or poor, and to never, ever judge anybody by the color of their skin or nationality. So as I shared this with David, I told him that she was raised not to fear people who are different or who are in the prison system. He had the biggest grin on his face and he felt satisfied with my answer. He constantly tells me that he is amazed that there are people “out there” who won’t judge him by his crime. I think the family history center and the Mormon volunteers have demonstrated that to him, and David’s Catholic.

When I went home that evening I briefly recounted the question that I was asked to my daughter, who had just turned twenty, but I softened it to “What does your daughter think about you coming down to the prison and working with inmates.” I figured that she didn’t need all the bluntness and grit that I get from the guys. She looked at me and said, “Uncle Nelson, and Steven (her cousin in Washington State who has been in prison), what’s there to judge?” Yes, she has seen firsthand our dealings with family members who have been in the prison system. She sees that they are really good people, regardless of why they were incarcerated. She grasps that good people do really screwy things. She understands it, and tends to look at people by what they are doing now rather than what they did in the past or might do in the future. I was a proud father in that moment.

             David and I have a good relationship and he knows that he can be a straight shooter with me. This is in light of the fact that he’s one of the most polite straight shooters I’ve ever met. As part of this conversation he wanted to dig deeper into who I was. I have found that even when the guys want to pry into who I am, they always approach it with great care, respect and dignity. Often I feel like they are a little to gentle with me. “Have you looked at the sex offenders database?” asked David. I acknowledged that I had. “Did you look at any of us?” I confessed that I did, to which he asked why I did that. Now I had to think about that on the spot with little time to collect myself. I wanted to be honest with him, but at the same time be compassionate in the presentation of my truth. I understood his reasoning for this conversation. People like me and the other volunteers must simply blow his mind. He and other inmates, have a hard time grasping that we really like them for who they are now. It’s tough for people who spend the day judging themselves to understand that the volunteers don’t have a reason to judge them. That’s just more than many of these men can comprehend. As I thought, we continued to talk. Then I looked at him and continued.

“OK David, let’s go back to your question now that I’ve had a few minutes to formulate some thoughts in my mind. Let’s unpack it.” He nodded in an eager way. “In the first few months of being a volunteer, I had the same problem that all the volunteers have.” He asked, “What would that be?” After a deep breath I continued, “I get to go home at the end of the day, and you guys have to go back to your cell. I can’t describe how guilty I have felt about that. There are still some volunteers who struggle with that. For me to separate out why I get to go home and you don’t, I took weeks after I met you guys and learned what you did through my research on the Internet. Remember, I do research for my day job so I know how to find this information. Then I could rationally look into myself and understand why you guys are here, and why I get to go home at the end of the day. This was tough because I really do like you guys, but I had to do it.”

In a very polite way, but to the point at hand, he asked, “Did you look me up?” I confessed, “Of course I did.” To this he responded, “OK… I am still amazed there are people out there who will not judge us.” Although this is a reoccurring theme that I hear often, I’m still taken back by their amazement at the volunteers and others. I assured him that there were many people on the outside who would not judge him. Maybe it’s a Utah thing. I honestly don’t know how widespread it is, but there are many good people who would give David or any other parolee a second chance. I also wanted him to know that not everybody is out to get felons and make them pay again and again. This was apparently what he needed to hear.

             I constantly have to keep at the forefront of my awareness whether or not I am sincerely being non-judgmental in my relationship with the guys. It’s a tough one that I think all volunteers have to work at because we are surrounded by a judgmental society. The evening news is highly judgmental (if it bleeds it reads), religions tend to be judgmental (hell, fire, and damnation if you’re unlucky), politics are judgmental (I did not have sex with that woman/ man, and I didn’t inhale), and family can be judgmental (we won’t even go there). It’s everywhere, so to check the attitude at the prison gate and just let it all go is nothing short of a miracle for all volunteers and those working in the prison system. After having judgment shoved down your throat all week and then to literally drop it at the gate still amazes me.

             One thing that worries the guys, especially the sex offenders, is how they will be judged when they go on parole. They worry whether they will be hired, shot at, or their house burned down. They ask me transcendent questions like, “Why are we on the sex offenders database, complete with picture and address for the world to see but there’s not a home invasion database or a murderers database?” I have to admit that I don’t have an answer for their very logical and painful question. What is even odder to me is that none of these men ever indicated to me that there shouldn’t be a sex offenders database on the Internet. They simply wonder why they are singled out. I just tell them that I honestly don’t know.

I do instruct them to do their best and not feed off the prison paranoia. I try to put this in perspective by telling them that the general public is more concerned with the price of gas and food than them. Sorry guys, but people are just too self-centered, and you aren’t the center of their universe.

             How I rated on the non-judgmental scale with the guys was brought to my attention after I had been a volunteer for a few months. Brad took me aside and just thanked me for not judging them. To me that was life altering since I didn’t know how I fell on the scale myself. But what does that really mean? Can we really be non-judgmental and even in our dealings in a prison population while at the same time snubbing our nose at the very face of a culture that tells us we should be otherwise? I’ve come to realize that to a large degree this is exactly what any volunteer with troubled people has to do.

             For the guys who really know me at the family history center, they aren’t shy about asking my opinion on something. In fact they aren’t shy about telling me how well or not well I dressed that day, or whether I have gained pounds or lost pounds. It’s a hoot. Because they are the ones who are constantly remind me of where I’m at and who I’m interacting with (for good or bad) I have to periodically wonder how I got to be this way. How can I, let alone anybody else, go into a prison and not let the judgments fly off the wall? Lessons in being non-judgmental must have slipped into my consciousness during my explorations.

             I’m surprised by how many of the guys will want to tell me what they have done that got them in prison. In my initial volunteer orientation class we were told that this would happen. Their take on it was “confession is good for the soul so listen, but don’t ask.” It was wise advice.

                                                                              Continued………..