Scenes of Prison
28. Gerald the Smart
G erald was a short, neatly dressed, middle-aged inmate who lived in E Unit, a general population unit. He wore glasses, and he looked smart, and he nurtured this image by carrying a clipboard and a book under his arm on his way to and from the Inmate Library, which he visited every day. When on the Unit, I often found him reading a book in the day area or in his room. We chatted often. I asked about his reading, and we occasionally engaged in animated conversations on interesting topics.
This suited Gerald’s purposes very well. To be noticed by other inmates holding his own in a conversation with staff enhanced his image as a smart guy. It also encouraged other inmates to seek his help when they needed someone with brains.
There were several reasons inmates might need a smart guy to help them.
One reason was to read for them. Lack of literacy is common in prison, and inmates often receive letters and official documents that are difficult for them to read. Gerald could read them and explain what they said.
Gerald could also write for them. Gerald could listen to inmates and put on paper what they wanted to say, and he wouldn’t misspell any words.
Finally, Gerald could listen to the details of difficult situations that arose in an inmate’s life, recommend actions inmates could take to help themselves, and then actually produce the documents that inmates would need to use to carry out these actions; for example, writing inmate grievances. Gerald was the actual author of many inmate grievances submitted to us under another inmate’s signature.
Inmates valued this contribution, and they rewarded him with a candy bar, or a bag of instant coffee, or some other valued item they could purchase at the Inmate Canteen and give to him. Of course, this was against the rules, but it was impossible for us to enforce this rule.
One day, I was having a lively conversation with Gerald in the lower day area when his mood suddenly shifted. He went from pleasant and chatty to angry, argumentative, mildly insulting, and borderline threatening. Other inmates noticed. His volume rose quickly, and his gestures and posture triggered my de-escalating strategies. When these didn’t seem to work, I excused myself to attend to some other pressing duties on the other side of the unit. I left Gerald before he could cross any lines that would have required me to act. Fortunately, Gerald did not follow me.
Later in the day, when we could talk privately, Gerald sought me out.
“Mister Larsen,” he began, “I’m sorry for the way I behaved earlier.”
“Well, that’s OK,” I said. “No harm done.”
“I hope you don’t have any hard feelings,” he said.
“No, of course not,” I said.
Gerald was a little sheepish, but he wanted me to understand something.
“When we were talking earlier,” he said, “you used a word I didn’t understand. I didn’t know what to do. If I asked you to stop and explain what the word meant, then suddenly I’m just another dumb inmate, and all the other inmates will see it. It was safer to pretend to be angry and to completely end the conversation. Other inmates would imagine that you had said something wrong to me which they didn’t understand, and I was sticking up for myself. By pretending to be angry, I wouldn’t lose face with them.”
“No problem,” I said. “Thanks for telling me. I wondered why you suddenly got so mad.”
So that was it. I’d actually caused this outburst myself, and all I did was use a big word Gerald didn’t understand that nearly blew his carefully cultivated image as a smart guy.
Noted.
I didn’t have to use big words in conversations with inmates, and I never did again. Thank you, Gerald. I learned something valuable from you about prisoners, and I could eliminate one more source of irritation between inmates and staff. No one likes to feel dumb and humiliated in front of one’s peers when they are watching and listening.
Discussion
- Have you ever experienced another person using an unfamiliar word in a conversation?
- How did you feel? What did you do?
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