Radford Noone Research Service

climbing your family tree

Mighty Drofdar

Trust Factor: The Reality Show

 

 

 

             I noticed from my first day at the prison that everybody there has trust issues at some level. This is one reason why I like the place so much -- I can relate to it. The very nature of the place breeds trust issues. However, this isn’t always a negative for safety reasons. Whether the correctional officers, the inmates, the staff, or the volunteers, we all work under the umbrella question of “Can I trust this person?” By the time I got into the system, I had a lifetime of trust issues so the place was familiar to me.

             I liken the trust issues in prison to a reality show that we would see on television. If this metaphor holds true then it would be Trust Factor, which of course is a take off the popular Fear Factor. The reason is without the Trust Factor the danger of being caught up in a Fear Factor is very real. Then to make the metaphor ever stranger, within my symbolic reality show everybody tends to break up into tribes so we have the whole Survivor theme going on.

             Issues surrounding trust was brought home to me by Jacob. He is white, in his mid-twenties, short, skinny as a rail which makes his eyes stand out. He’s such a nice kid that if circumstances were different, you’d ask him to come over and help you fix your car on a Saturday, and he’d thrilled to help out. To think of him in prison is almost more than the rational mind can comprehend. Yet, there he is.

He likes to check in to make sure that I’m alright, and for me to make sure that he’s alright. Sometimes if he gets word that I’m going to be at the library on a day that he can meet with me he will come to all sessions that day looking for me. I like to check in with him so I’ll send word that I’ll be there from 6-8 pm. However, by the time the message travels along the food chain to him, the time is usually forgotten. So there he is waiting for me when I get there. This is meaningful to me because I know he has been at the family history center waiting for me all day long. Then he will greet me with a large smile and we will chat. It’s actually easy for me to forget that he’s wearing a prison white uniform with his name and number stenciled on it. After our time together he will give me hug and say “Bye Dad.”  His particular brand of openness with me has taught me a lot about my own trust issues, because he had a lifetime of them dumped on him – one betrayal after another. So as we talk about his family history, we also explore his trust issues as both are intertwined to an amazing degree.

             Jacob comes from a home where he was sexually abused (not unusual for inmates), and when he was about thirteen the state took him out of the home and put him in foster care. Then the state put him back into the home during his high school years. How this young man remained as good as he is throughout all this is a mystery to me. He never did drugs or alcohol. He stayed out of gangs and to my knowledge he never packed a pistol. His problem areas were no doubt in the area of relationships not knowing how to wisely choose who to take into his life as a friend or lover.

             Jacob is not hard to adopt. In fact I think many of the men have done so and watch out for him. He’s not physically the largest or stockiest person, so he could easily be sexually preyed upon. His potential to be preyed upon was something that had crossed my mind so when Adrian took me aside one day and told me he was concerned, I took it seriously. Jacob had been moved from his cell block to Adrian’s cell block. He had observed that Jacob was being sexually harassed. Adrian asked if I could check in with Jacob and see if he was OK. The request was done in that hush-hush tone in the bat cave office when he knew nobody was listening. This really made me concerned, as this type of fear is part of the prison system that I’m just not exposed to.

             Adrian said that if I could meet with Jacob, he would send the word on the block that I was going to be in the family history center on a certain day and time and for Jacob to meet me. I arranged the time and word was sent. What surprised me the most about Adrian approaching me was that he trusted me without question to evaluate the situation and to make the right decisions based upon my observation. I think this was the first time that I saw how tribal the prison can be. I still haven’t figured out if my role in that moment was shaman, wise man, or patriarch. I don’t even pretend to understand how the tribe works.

             When Jacob showed up at the scheduled time, we chatted and I asked him kindly but firmly what was going down on the block. He said that the “gays” were harassing him and saying all kinds of bad things to him. Some even were trying to grope him. It was hard for me to ask, because I’m well aware of his trust issues. I didn’t want to overstep into an area where I was unwelcomed. Nevertheless, I enquired if he was being sexually assaulted. He said that he was not. I asked him if he was sexually assaulted on the previous block that he had just been moved out of. He said that he had not. I enquired if he was scared, and he said he wasn’t because he had friends who would protect him. Yes! I thought. The tribe loyalty kicked in. I was so happy. He said that he just ignores the taunts and harassment. I told him that I was proud of him. I would go back to Adrian and thank him for trusting me to look into the situation and reported that everything was well. He too was relieved. Adrian cared enough about Jacob to take some action. That says a lot, not only about Adrian’s character, but about the character of our adopted Jacob that Adrian cared and that he was protected.

             I recently heard that when Jacob and Adrian know I’m going to be there, they will wait in the Dog Block courtyard and look for my car through the razor wire fence. Then after they see me walk into the reception area, they will make their way to the family history center. I’m so unworthy of this devotion.

             What amazes me the most in observing this level of trust is that for the guys who trust me, they really have no reason to. Yet they do. I tell them that they only see my good side and that I may actually have committed a chainsaw massacre at some point in my life. They just laugh and make some silly comment about how much fun it would be to have me as their cellie (cell mate). Then they state I could even have the bottom bunk, which I suppose is the desired one of the bunk beds being easier to maneuver in and out of bed. Even through all the silliness, the fact remains that they really don’t know if I’ve committed a chainsaw massacre or not.

Even with all the trust issues he has, he is still willing to reach out and trust a few people. He does it carefully and cautiously, but he still does it. I’m thankful to be one of them. A few is better than none I suppose. However, I remind him that everybody on the planet will disappoint him at some time. That’s just the human condition. I tell him that if he can learn to accept us all with our faults, and still trust us, that he will be the better person for it. I know it’s hard for him. Obviously, when I dish out this advice I’m really just talking to myself. I’ve had to learn to trust people in spite of their faults, knowing that some will let me down. Welcome to the human race. That was one of the most insightful principles I have ever come across – that ultimately it’s up to me not to let me down.

             Another facet of this trust factor that I’ve come to appreciate is that I really do trust some of the guys. When certain guys tell me something I automatically believe they are telling me the truth or at least that they believe they are telling me the truth. Either way it has given me many lessons that I take back to the outside with me. I still haven’t figured out whether my role is that of the shaman, wise man, patriarch, or simply the clown-trickster character. Maybe it’s simpler than that and I’m that senile old man that the tribe leaves behind in the snow as they seek a new camp site!

Since my time in the Trust Factor, I don’t dismiss what people on the outside tell me like I did only a short time ago. I find myself weighing conversations carefully and even thinking in terms of trust. What do I attach to, what do I let go, and what simply doesn’t matter either way. It’s amazing what you can see in the person talking to you if you take the time to seriously listen and then make an informed decision whether to trust, not trust, or not care either way. The key is the seriously listening part of the exercise. I’m also finding that since going to the prison that if I trust someone on the outside I’m tribally loyal to them. It’s past the surface stuff that I’ve done all my life. That I certainly learned from my boys at the Big House.

Jacob was sharing with me the abuse he suffered from his grandfather until he was thirteen years old and taken out of the house by the state. As he was telling me his story, I could see the trust issues written all over his face. I assured him that he didn’t have to trust his grandfather ever again and when he has children, that it would probably be wise for him not to have them around this man. “He should be in prison more than me,” he lamented almost bitterly. I shared, “Perhaps you’re right, perhaps you’re not. However, that’s not necessarily the best way to look at it.” I just love it when the guys ask me what I mean by something. I suppose nobody talks to them in the manner that I have chosen to do so. So when Jacob gave me that intense look and asked “What do you mean?” I was prepared with lots of practice under my belt.

“There are reasons why people do what they do in their life. For example, who did

it to your grandfather and did your grandfather do it to your father who allowed the abuse to continue when it came your turn?” He said that he didn’t know. I continued, “We will probably never know, but the point is, can you have compassion for your grandfather and your father?” He said that it was difficult so I tried to provide some perspective to him, “Would you rather be in your skin while sitting here in prison or in your grandfather’s skin on the outside?” There was no question in his mind he adamantly stated that he would rather be himself in prison. I asked why he thought that. “Because I know better than what he did.” Yes, I thought and then added, “The reality is you’re in prison whether you think you should be here or not, and he’s on the outside whether you think he should be or not. The reality is that you’re here, and it’s up to you to make some wise choices and decisions. Look at what you’ve accomplished here already.” I wanted him to see himself through my eyes.

He offered a short checklist, “I’ve taken college classes, I’m doing family history, attending church functions, and trying to better my life.” This was all good. I then presented the under belly side on the altar for him to see as I asked, “And your grandfather?” Now that question stopped him in his tracks as he responded, “He hasn’t changed. In fact when I was twenty-one right before I came in here, he tried to molest me again, but I wouldn’t let him.” I made sure that he understood that from everything he just shared with me that his life was better than grandpa’s while he was sitting in prison. It’s not the way most people on the outside would look at it, but from what I see, Jacob is doing just fine. I hope he can show some compassion for this really screwed up grandfather, because to do so will mean that he can find compassion for himself. Can Jacob learn to trust himself enough to find compassion for his grandfather and his father? I hope so. However, he has to trust himself first.

             I think that on the outside we often give trust lip service. We say we trust someone, but do we really? Relationships are just plain hard, and I’m no exception to that rule. Can I trust myself to trust other people, or do I want to control everything because I trust no one? We all have to make these decisions in our day-to-day life, but the good thing is that at our level of dealing with the world around us, the consequences aren’t usually as great as they are for the guys in prison.

             If I could sum up the principle of trust that I have learned from the guys, it’s that loyalty is the other side of trust. Can people trust me to be a loyal friend, co-worker, business partner, spouse, father, money manager, or church member? Better yet can I trust me? Because some of the guys place such a rabid trust in me, it leaves me feeling very insignificant and certainly unworthy. I don’t think I will look at trust, especially my ability to trust myself, the same way again on the outside.  The inmates are indeed my best teachers.